Read Online Death of the Mad Hatter by Sarah Pepper - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sarah Pepper
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me. “Mrs. Dotson gave me the impression that the classroom was empty this hour, and I could use it for my free period.”
“ It is,” Mick said and sat on the edge of the teacher’s desk. “You have some wicked moves, girl.”
“ My name is Alice Mae, not girl.”
Mick extended his hand to shake her hand. She grabbed her arm, just above the elbow and below her bruising. She stared at his hand like she didn’t know what to do with it. It couldn’t have been more awkward. He finally lowered his hand.
“ I’m Mick.”
“ Alice Mae,” she said. She walked over to her duffle bag and unzipped a small compartment where she pulled out a homemade Tootsie Roll. After unraveling it, she popped it in her mouth and discarded the wrapper. She shot it Anny-Anny Over style. It missed the trash can by a solid foot, landing next to a crumpled wad of paper.
“ I didn’t mean to intrude,” Mick said. “I just wanted to invite you to a dance hangout a lot of us go to. It’s called Aftershock.”
“ Who is us ?”
“ Bunch of kids from school,” he said. “I’d introduce you to them if you wanted to go together.”
“ I’ll take that under consideration.”
“ Do you have plans this Saturday night?”
“ Yes.”
“ Maybe next weekend?” Mick asked.
“ Maybe.”
He handed her back the remote. “Let me know.”
He walked out of the room, not bother ing to talk to me before leaving. Striking out was never pretty. I shut the door when I was sure he was down the hall. I walked past her to the trashcan and picked up her wrapper and the paper ball. I tossed the paper in the trash but held onto the wrapper.
“ Where did you get that bruise on your arm?” I asked, hoping to keep her distracted from my hand.
“You can see them?”
“I’m not blind.”
She narrowed her voltage blue eyes . “I fell.”
Textbook batter woman syndrome. I wanted to do something, anything. I was about four seconds from alerting the school counselor. “You fell?” I repeated.
“Down a rabbit hole.”
“ It must have been a pretty big rabbit to dig—”
“I’m not lying, not about this Ryley, so you can get off your white horse and stop trying to save me. I don’t need to be saved. I’m perfectly fine managing my own life.” She crossed her arms and glared at me like I’d done something insulting. “Why am I defending myself to you? Something’s seriously Wrong with me! But if you must know, rumperbabbit holes are particularly exorbitant in this part of the country.”
The corners of my mouth twitched . “Of course they are.”
She turned away from me and slipped on her oversized t-shirt. I sniffed the wrapper she’d thrown away. A faint cherry scent lingered. I tasted some of the residue. It wasn’t particularly sweet, but I quickly had the biggest sugar rush of my life.
She grabbed her duffle bag and headed for the door. Instinctively, I reached for her bruised arm to stop her, but I hesitated. She stared at my hand, like she was looking for a reason to fight.
“You are really okay? You really just tripped?” Regardless of her answer, I made a mental note to alert the school counselor.
“It’s not me you should be worried about,” she said , and sighed heavily. “It’s a pity, really.”
“ What’s a pity?” I asked.
She gave me a wide berth as she walked to the door. I thought for sure that she’d walk out without answering me, but when she reached for the handle, she turned to face me.
“ That Mr. Edgar didn’t tell you more before he became trapped inside the prison of his mind.”
That was it! I raced toward her and slammed the door shut just as she was opening it. “You know nothing about my dad!”
She gave me a sympathetic look. “No Ryley, it’s you that knows nothing.”
“ What do you know about him?”
“ Many things, but none of it really matters, not anymore.”
What was that supposed to mean? “Who is Zola Maude—the lady whose hair he lit on fire?”
“
“ It is,” Mick said and sat on the edge of the teacher’s desk. “You have some wicked moves, girl.”
“ My name is Alice Mae, not girl.”
Mick extended his hand to shake her hand. She grabbed her arm, just above the elbow and below her bruising. She stared at his hand like she didn’t know what to do with it. It couldn’t have been more awkward. He finally lowered his hand.
“ I’m Mick.”
“ Alice Mae,” she said. She walked over to her duffle bag and unzipped a small compartment where she pulled out a homemade Tootsie Roll. After unraveling it, she popped it in her mouth and discarded the wrapper. She shot it Anny-Anny Over style. It missed the trash can by a solid foot, landing next to a crumpled wad of paper.
“ I didn’t mean to intrude,” Mick said. “I just wanted to invite you to a dance hangout a lot of us go to. It’s called Aftershock.”
“ Who is us ?”
“ Bunch of kids from school,” he said. “I’d introduce you to them if you wanted to go together.”
“ I’ll take that under consideration.”
“ Do you have plans this Saturday night?”
“ Yes.”
“ Maybe next weekend?” Mick asked.
“ Maybe.”
He handed her back the remote. “Let me know.”
He walked out of the room, not bother ing to talk to me before leaving. Striking out was never pretty. I shut the door when I was sure he was down the hall. I walked past her to the trashcan and picked up her wrapper and the paper ball. I tossed the paper in the trash but held onto the wrapper.
“ Where did you get that bruise on your arm?” I asked, hoping to keep her distracted from my hand.
“You can see them?”
“I’m not blind.”
She narrowed her voltage blue eyes . “I fell.”
Textbook batter woman syndrome. I wanted to do something, anything. I was about four seconds from alerting the school counselor. “You fell?” I repeated.
“Down a rabbit hole.”
“ It must have been a pretty big rabbit to dig—”
“I’m not lying, not about this Ryley, so you can get off your white horse and stop trying to save me. I don’t need to be saved. I’m perfectly fine managing my own life.” She crossed her arms and glared at me like I’d done something insulting. “Why am I defending myself to you? Something’s seriously Wrong with me! But if you must know, rumperbabbit holes are particularly exorbitant in this part of the country.”
The corners of my mouth twitched . “Of course they are.”
She turned away from me and slipped on her oversized t-shirt. I sniffed the wrapper she’d thrown away. A faint cherry scent lingered. I tasted some of the residue. It wasn’t particularly sweet, but I quickly had the biggest sugar rush of my life.
She grabbed her duffle bag and headed for the door. Instinctively, I reached for her bruised arm to stop her, but I hesitated. She stared at my hand, like she was looking for a reason to fight.
“You are really okay? You really just tripped?” Regardless of her answer, I made a mental note to alert the school counselor.
“It’s not me you should be worried about,” she said , and sighed heavily. “It’s a pity, really.”
“ What’s a pity?” I asked.
She gave me a wide berth as she walked to the door. I thought for sure that she’d walk out without answering me, but when she reached for the handle, she turned to face me.
“ That Mr. Edgar didn’t tell you more before he became trapped inside the prison of his mind.”
That was it! I raced toward her and slammed the door shut just as she was opening it. “You know nothing about my dad!”
She gave me a sympathetic look. “No Ryley, it’s you that knows nothing.”
“ What do you know about him?”
“ Many things, but none of it really matters, not anymore.”
What was that supposed to mean? “Who is Zola Maude—the lady whose hair he lit on fire?”
“
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