Read Online Brighter, a supernatural thriller by V. J. Chambers - Free Book Online
Authors: V. J. Chambers
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springtime, The Grind had the air conditioner pumping. Ramona stood outside, trying to get the attention of Owen, who was behind the counter. She thought maybe she could just order from outside, and then she wouldn't have to step foot inside the frigid coffee shop. But Owen was oblivious, so Ramona took a deep breath and stepped inside. Immediately, goose bumps erupted all over her skin. Her nipples tightened.
Owen looked at her, but he didn't look at her nipples. Ramona thought briefly about the way Garrett had ogled her chest the night before. That had been kind of nice. It had been a while since a guy had found her even remotely attractive, and God knew she'd been carrying a torch for Mason so long it was pathetic. Her nipples rubbed against the fabric of her bra—a pleasant sensation. She wondered if Garrett really were a rapist. She wondered what it would be like to be raped by Garrett.
Mmm. Yeah, when she thought about it like that, it probably wasn't rape was it? Because what it was like to be raped by anybody was really fucking awful. She knew that. God! She couldn't seriously be considering what it would be like to have sex with Garrett Hillard, could she? Because sex with Garrett was out of the question. Not even an idea. She couldn't even—
He had nice lips. Ramona was betting he was a pretty good kisser. She couldn't help but smile as she thought about it.
"Ramona?" said Owen. "You wanna order something?"
"Icy Chalice?" She was embarrassed. "Sorry."
"No problem," said Owen.
Ramona waited while Owen made her drink, and then, after he gave it to her, she looked at him expectantly. When he didn't quote her a price, she headed back out into the warmth. Having friends who worked in the coffee shop sometimes translated into free drinks, which was definitely a perk. While she'd been getting a drink, Dawn and Cecelia had settled down at a table outside The Grind. Ramona didn't know what to do. Cecelia hated Ramona's guts. So she couldn't go sit with them. But she didn't want to sit at another table and be rude. They might think she was snubbing them. Ramona stood just outside the doorway of The Holy Grind, frozen like a deer in headlights.
Dawn motioned her over. "Come sit with us, Ramona," she said.
Ramona still hesitated, waiting for Cecelia to say something or make a face or stalk off. When Cecelia just smiled, Ramona edged her way to the table. She set down her Icy Chalice and sat down. "Hi," she said.
Dawn and Cecelia smiled at her.
Were they smiling clone smiles?
No. That was fucked up and ridiculous. Garrett Hillard was crazy, admiration for her bust notwithstanding. He might not be a crazy rapist, but he was definitely not playing with a full deck of cards. There was no way that the river hippies were clones. There was no way that Dawn and Cecelia were clones. Ramona wasn't even going to think about it anymore, because it was that ridiculous. Ramona smiled back. She dug her pack of cigarettes out of her purse and took a cigarette out.
Dawn and Cecelia watched her light the cigarette. No one spoke.
"So," said Ramona. "How have you guys been?"
"Good," said Dawn.
"Good," said Cecelia.
Ramona nodded. There was a long, long pause. "Good," said Ramona. On second thought, maybe they were clones. They sure were acting weird. Maybe Ramona should just go. She could drink her Icy Chalice in her apartment, and it was just above them. She could see her open window from the street if she looked up. The tapestry she used as a curtain was fluttering in the breeze.
No. She wasn't going to let these girls chase her off. Dawn and Cecelia could be bitchy if they wanted to be, but there wasn't anything wrong with them. They were just girls. Not ghosts. Not clones. None of that shit meant anything except that Ramona might be losing some cards from her own deck. And Ramona would prove to herself once and for all that all of that crazy ghost/clone shit was in her head.
Ramona took the brochure from the admissions
Owen looked at her, but he didn't look at her nipples. Ramona thought briefly about the way Garrett had ogled her chest the night before. That had been kind of nice. It had been a while since a guy had found her even remotely attractive, and God knew she'd been carrying a torch for Mason so long it was pathetic. Her nipples rubbed against the fabric of her bra—a pleasant sensation. She wondered if Garrett really were a rapist. She wondered what it would be like to be raped by Garrett.
Mmm. Yeah, when she thought about it like that, it probably wasn't rape was it? Because what it was like to be raped by anybody was really fucking awful. She knew that. God! She couldn't seriously be considering what it would be like to have sex with Garrett Hillard, could she? Because sex with Garrett was out of the question. Not even an idea. She couldn't even—
He had nice lips. Ramona was betting he was a pretty good kisser. She couldn't help but smile as she thought about it.
"Ramona?" said Owen. "You wanna order something?"
"Icy Chalice?" She was embarrassed. "Sorry."
"No problem," said Owen.
Ramona waited while Owen made her drink, and then, after he gave it to her, she looked at him expectantly. When he didn't quote her a price, she headed back out into the warmth. Having friends who worked in the coffee shop sometimes translated into free drinks, which was definitely a perk. While she'd been getting a drink, Dawn and Cecelia had settled down at a table outside The Grind. Ramona didn't know what to do. Cecelia hated Ramona's guts. So she couldn't go sit with them. But she didn't want to sit at another table and be rude. They might think she was snubbing them. Ramona stood just outside the doorway of The Holy Grind, frozen like a deer in headlights.
Dawn motioned her over. "Come sit with us, Ramona," she said.
Ramona still hesitated, waiting for Cecelia to say something or make a face or stalk off. When Cecelia just smiled, Ramona edged her way to the table. She set down her Icy Chalice and sat down. "Hi," she said.
Dawn and Cecelia smiled at her.
Were they smiling clone smiles?
No. That was fucked up and ridiculous. Garrett Hillard was crazy, admiration for her bust notwithstanding. He might not be a crazy rapist, but he was definitely not playing with a full deck of cards. There was no way that the river hippies were clones. There was no way that Dawn and Cecelia were clones. Ramona wasn't even going to think about it anymore, because it was that ridiculous. Ramona smiled back. She dug her pack of cigarettes out of her purse and took a cigarette out.
Dawn and Cecelia watched her light the cigarette. No one spoke.
"So," said Ramona. "How have you guys been?"
"Good," said Dawn.
"Good," said Cecelia.
Ramona nodded. There was a long, long pause. "Good," said Ramona. On second thought, maybe they were clones. They sure were acting weird. Maybe Ramona should just go. She could drink her Icy Chalice in her apartment, and it was just above them. She could see her open window from the street if she looked up. The tapestry she used as a curtain was fluttering in the breeze.
No. She wasn't going to let these girls chase her off. Dawn and Cecelia could be bitchy if they wanted to be, but there wasn't anything wrong with them. They were just girls. Not ghosts. Not clones. None of that shit meant anything except that Ramona might be losing some cards from her own deck. And Ramona would prove to herself once and for all that all of that crazy ghost/clone shit was in her head.
Ramona took the brochure from the admissions
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