Read Online Bras & Broomsticks by Sarah Mlynowski - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sarah Mlynowski
Ads: Link
these drastic measures are necessary.”
“Don’t start, Rachel,” he says, shushing me. “They are. Now, Miri, give Jennifer your hands so she can wrap your fingers.”
STB smiles a toothy victory smile. “And I don’t want to see you picking them off.”
“Dad,” Miri whines, “I don’t think—”
“But I do,” he says. “And I want you to start taking the B-complex vitamin biotin, which strengthens nails.” Did I mention that my father thinks vitamins are the cure for everything? “And I’m your father. I can tell you what to do.”
Oh, burn. STB totally told on Miri.
STB opens the Band-Aid box and grabs Miri’s hand.
“Could be worse,” I whisper, rubbing Miri’s back. “At least they’re plain. She could have listened to Prissy and bought the Disney Princess ones.”
After dinner, Miri and I are lounging in front of the TV when I flip the channel and realize that Star Wars, Episode IV, the first one ever made, is just about to start. “Dad!” I shout. “ Star Wars is on television! Come watch! Dad! Star Wars! ”
“This is awesome,” Miri says.
My dad runs down the stairs, full of energy. “It is? Make room for me, girls.” He squeezes in between us on the couch. I unfold a multicolored blanket and toss it over our legs. He puts an arm around each of us and we lean into him.
When the electric blue words come on-screen, we all recite, “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away . . .”
Then we hold our breath. Wait for it. . . . Wait for it. . . .
We belt out the music as loudly as we can, like we always do.
STB, followed by Prissy, marches down the stairs. “What are you doing? Why are you making so much noise? Daniel, I thought we were going to review the wedding place cards tonight.”
“We can’t,” my dad says, not taking his eyes off the screen. “ Star Wars is on.”
“But we have the DVD. Can’t we do the place cards first and then you’ll watch it later?”
“Watching it on DVD isn’t the same as watching it on TV,” I explain.
“She’s right,” my dad says. “We can do the place cards tomorrow. Come watch with us.” He pats the space next to me.
STB shakes her head. “I was never into this movie,” she says, and then disappears up the stairs.
How can he possibly marry her?
My dad waves Prissy over and she sits on his lap. “What movie is this?” she asks, bouncing. “Who is that? Why is she wearing cinnamon buns on her head? Why—”
“Shhh,” my dad says. “No talking except during the commercials.”
Prissy tries watching for a few minutes, but then starts to squirm and heads back upstairs.
And it’s just the three of us. The way it should be.
The second our father deposits us onto the train back to the city, Miri rips off the Band-Aids.
“She”—thumb off—“is the”—index finger off— “most miserable”—middle finger off—“woman”—fourth finger off, no idea what that one’s called—“in the”— pinky off—“entire world!”
“She is quite evil,” I happily agree. “Too bad it’s about to become official. If only there were something we could do.” La, la, la.
Miri stares steely-eyed ahead. Then she nods. “Okay. You’re right. We need to get rid of her. I can’t have Band-Aids applied to my fingers for the rest of my life.”
Yes! Part One in motion!
I give her a nice big sisterly squeeze. She’s so tiny. Not that I’m so huge. Maybe after we’re done rescuing our dad, I’ll get her to make me taller, like five foot two. A giant!
I pull A 2 from her bag, and she promptly starts biting her thumbnail. What, does she think I’m going to drop it or something?
Plop. Oops. I pick it up off the grimy train floor. “Sorry.” Tee-hee. “Here you go. Start looking for an anti-love spell.” I put the book into her freshly bitten hands before either of us can do more damage.
She flips through the pages. “I don’t know if there are anti-love spells. I haven’t finished the first
“Don’t start, Rachel,” he says, shushing me. “They are. Now, Miri, give Jennifer your hands so she can wrap your fingers.”
STB smiles a toothy victory smile. “And I don’t want to see you picking them off.”
“Dad,” Miri whines, “I don’t think—”
“But I do,” he says. “And I want you to start taking the B-complex vitamin biotin, which strengthens nails.” Did I mention that my father thinks vitamins are the cure for everything? “And I’m your father. I can tell you what to do.”
Oh, burn. STB totally told on Miri.
STB opens the Band-Aid box and grabs Miri’s hand.
“Could be worse,” I whisper, rubbing Miri’s back. “At least they’re plain. She could have listened to Prissy and bought the Disney Princess ones.”
After dinner, Miri and I are lounging in front of the TV when I flip the channel and realize that Star Wars, Episode IV, the first one ever made, is just about to start. “Dad!” I shout. “ Star Wars is on television! Come watch! Dad! Star Wars! ”
“This is awesome,” Miri says.
My dad runs down the stairs, full of energy. “It is? Make room for me, girls.” He squeezes in between us on the couch. I unfold a multicolored blanket and toss it over our legs. He puts an arm around each of us and we lean into him.
When the electric blue words come on-screen, we all recite, “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away . . .”
Then we hold our breath. Wait for it. . . . Wait for it. . . .
We belt out the music as loudly as we can, like we always do.
STB, followed by Prissy, marches down the stairs. “What are you doing? Why are you making so much noise? Daniel, I thought we were going to review the wedding place cards tonight.”
“We can’t,” my dad says, not taking his eyes off the screen. “ Star Wars is on.”
“But we have the DVD. Can’t we do the place cards first and then you’ll watch it later?”
“Watching it on DVD isn’t the same as watching it on TV,” I explain.
“She’s right,” my dad says. “We can do the place cards tomorrow. Come watch with us.” He pats the space next to me.
STB shakes her head. “I was never into this movie,” she says, and then disappears up the stairs.
How can he possibly marry her?
My dad waves Prissy over and she sits on his lap. “What movie is this?” she asks, bouncing. “Who is that? Why is she wearing cinnamon buns on her head? Why—”
“Shhh,” my dad says. “No talking except during the commercials.”
Prissy tries watching for a few minutes, but then starts to squirm and heads back upstairs.
And it’s just the three of us. The way it should be.
The second our father deposits us onto the train back to the city, Miri rips off the Band-Aids.
“She”—thumb off—“is the”—index finger off— “most miserable”—middle finger off—“woman”—fourth finger off, no idea what that one’s called—“in the”— pinky off—“entire world!”
“She is quite evil,” I happily agree. “Too bad it’s about to become official. If only there were something we could do.” La, la, la.
Miri stares steely-eyed ahead. Then she nods. “Okay. You’re right. We need to get rid of her. I can’t have Band-Aids applied to my fingers for the rest of my life.”
Yes! Part One in motion!
I give her a nice big sisterly squeeze. She’s so tiny. Not that I’m so huge. Maybe after we’re done rescuing our dad, I’ll get her to make me taller, like five foot two. A giant!
I pull A 2 from her bag, and she promptly starts biting her thumbnail. What, does she think I’m going to drop it or something?
Plop. Oops. I pick it up off the grimy train floor. “Sorry.” Tee-hee. “Here you go. Start looking for an anti-love spell.” I put the book into her freshly bitten hands before either of us can do more damage.
She flips through the pages. “I don’t know if there are anti-love spells. I haven’t finished the first
Similar Books
