Read Online Center Ice by Cate Cameron - Free Book Online Page A

of hockey gear with her foot, then sank gracefully down onto it and smiled at me. “Yeah, she’s still living here. You should see her. We’re supposed to be cleaning out the garage, and she’s wearing a dress . I honestly don’t know if she even owns a pair of jeans.”
    Miranda was loving this, and I was kind of stuck. I couldn’t leave without it looking like I was running away, and if I got up and started moving things, she’d have won. So I just sat there and stared out the garage door as she kept talking. “Yeah, it’s like she thinks she’s better than us. ‘Oooh, I’m from the city, and I wear dresses all the time.’ And meanwhile, she’s, like, a pathetic little rat-creature, with her pointy face and her nasty brown hair.” She giggled, “No, you have nice brown hair. It’s a real color! Hers is just dirty dishwater.”
    Where the hell was Natalie? Shouldn’t she be coming out to check on us? She could hear her daughter being a mega-bitch, and then she’d understand what I was dealing with. But I didn’t need to be rescued, I reminded myself.
    I lurched to my feet and wandered over to the deep shelves that lined Miranda’s side of the garage. I shuffled around a little, and I knew she was watching me, just waiting to see me pick up a box of something and move it outside. I picked something up, all right, and I heaved the bag up onto my shoulder and started toward the door. But when I got as far as Miranda, I shifted my grip on the bag and tipped it over, open end down, and let the gritty, dusty birdseed fall on her snarky little head.
    It was a big bag and the whole top had been cut open so it didn’t pour so much as just empty itself all over her. She shrieked, I laughed, and then she was surging upward, her arms wrapping around my waist as she knocked me over backward onto the hard concrete floor. She landed on top of me and I skidded a bit, feeling the skin on my elbows tearing. Then she had both of her hands wrapped in my hair, “You bitch!” she screamed. “Why did you have to come here? Why!” She tried to bang my head on the floor but she wasn’t putting a lot of conviction into it; I kept my neck muscles tense and she barely moved me at all. “I hate you!”
    Then Natalie was there, her arm wrapped around Miranda’s shoulders as she pulled her backward. “Get off her, Miranda!”
    Apparently Miranda was done fighting because she let her mother pull her away from me, and when Natalie let go of her she stalked off to a corner of the garage and just stood there, trembling and crying like she was the one who’d almost gotten her head beaten against a concrete floor.
    “Psycho!” I said loudly, and I sat up and tried to bend my arms. I sucked in a hissing breath and stopped trying. Instead I just sat there like some sort of demented bird with my wings stretched out to the side and waited to see what happened next.
    “Damn it,” Natalie said. She crouched down beside me, gently lifting and twisting my arms to see first one elbow and then the other. “These are nasty.” She frowned at me. “Do you want me to clean them up, or do you want to go to a doctor?”
    “A doctor? They’re not that serious, are they?” I tried to twist my arm around to get a better view, but all I saw was a red blur.
    “I don’t know. They might scar, I guess…” She looked at me as if trying to make a decision, then said, “Miranda, get a clean towel from the laundry room. Get two.” She patted my shoulder. “I’ll call Doctor Huddleby. He’s a friend of the family, and he’s very good about getting us in without an appointment.” She looked over her shoulder and spoke more sharply. “Miranda! Let’s go! Get some towels.” She pulled out her phone and started looking for the number, and Miranda kicked herself into gear and started toward the house. “And get my purse,” Natalie called after her. Then she turned to me and shook her head. “This can’t continue,” she said as if it