Read Online Dust and Roses: Book Two of the Dust Trilogy by V.B. Marlowe - Free Book Online
Authors: V.B. Marlowe
Ads: Link
supposed to practice making stupid cloud
formations if I can’t look at the sky?”
Even though the last part was a dig at
herself, she had a point.
“How’s everything going?”
She shrugged and pursed her lips. “Same
old. Same old. I try to stick up for myself but they don’t listen, they still
call me Cuddle Bug. They still treat me like a pet. I know you like the name
Dust now, but I don’t think I’ll ever come to accept Cuddle Bug.”
I took her hand in mine and squeezed it
gently. “And you don’t have to. If you don’t like the name, you don’t like it,
and you shouldn’t have to put up with people calling you that.”
Her hand suddenly felt warm as she
squeezed mine a little tighter. “I watch you at school sometimes. When kids
call you Dust, they don’t mean it in a good way.”
I shrugged. “Violet, it doesn’t matter how
they mean it. It’s how I take it. I hope you get to a place where you don’t let
it get under your skin.”
Violet lay back on the ground, her eyes
getting lost in the blue sky above us. “It’s okay. I have a strong feeling
things are really going to change around here.”
“What does that mean?”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “Just
watch. You’ll see.”
I looked at the sky again and blinked,
thinking something must have been wrong with my eyes. Within seconds, the sky
had turned from a cheerful powder-blue to a murky, dull gray.
Chapter
Eight
For the next few days, Everson Woods
experienced weather conditions that were totally out of the norm. Rain pounded
our town incessantly, resulting in flooding and all sorts of problems. School
had even been cancelled one day because the winds were too strong for the
school buses to travel. That was the first time I’d witnessed rain that never
stopped, not even for a minute. On the plus side, Fletcher’s health slightly
improved. While he still looked terrible, at least he was up for doing
something outside of the house. I’d talked him into going to the fabric store
with me even though he hated any kind of shopping.
I still didn’t know what to do with my
beautiful lilac fabric, so I’d decided to set it aside to work on something
else. I needed to sew. It was calming and therapeutic. My mission was to find
an awesome plaid print.
“How come you never make me anything?”
Fletcher asked as we rounded a corner, huddled underneath my umbrella.
I hadn’t thought much about making
something for him or anyone else. Besides Fletcher and I, no one liked my
dresses. “I don’t know how to make shirts or pants, just dresses.”
“It doesn’t have to be those things, just
something. I’d love to wear something you made.”
My cheeks warmed slightly despite the
chill in the air. I hoped my face wasn’t red. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
Maybe I could make him a hat or something.
Fletcher held the door open for me as we
stepped into Molly’s Fabrics. I shook my umbrella out and placed it in the
holder beside the door.
As usual, the store was practically empty of
customers. Almost right away, I settled on a red and black plaid material. It
spoke to me and it was different from anything I had ever used. I could see the
dress coming together right before my eyes—the puffy sleeves, gold buttons,
maybe even a short train. While the salesperson cut the amount of fabric I
requested, Fletcher and I waited by the plate glass window. He held up some
white lace. “This is my favorite look on you. When you wear white frilly
things. It’s pretty. You look like an Angel.”
I shuddered. Why did he have to say that?
Rose was an Angel. He had kissed Rose, something he would never do to me. The
times we had kissed, I initiated it and he responded like a cold fish. I moved
over to the register and asked if the fabric was ready.
After I paid for my material, we headed
for the coffee shop. Fletcher ordered a hot chocolate with all the fixings
while I had a black coffee, no sugar.
Fletcher sipped his hot
formations if I can’t look at the sky?”
Even though the last part was a dig at
herself, she had a point.
“How’s everything going?”
She shrugged and pursed her lips. “Same
old. Same old. I try to stick up for myself but they don’t listen, they still
call me Cuddle Bug. They still treat me like a pet. I know you like the name
Dust now, but I don’t think I’ll ever come to accept Cuddle Bug.”
I took her hand in mine and squeezed it
gently. “And you don’t have to. If you don’t like the name, you don’t like it,
and you shouldn’t have to put up with people calling you that.”
Her hand suddenly felt warm as she
squeezed mine a little tighter. “I watch you at school sometimes. When kids
call you Dust, they don’t mean it in a good way.”
I shrugged. “Violet, it doesn’t matter how
they mean it. It’s how I take it. I hope you get to a place where you don’t let
it get under your skin.”
Violet lay back on the ground, her eyes
getting lost in the blue sky above us. “It’s okay. I have a strong feeling
things are really going to change around here.”
“What does that mean?”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “Just
watch. You’ll see.”
I looked at the sky again and blinked,
thinking something must have been wrong with my eyes. Within seconds, the sky
had turned from a cheerful powder-blue to a murky, dull gray.
Chapter
Eight
For the next few days, Everson Woods
experienced weather conditions that were totally out of the norm. Rain pounded
our town incessantly, resulting in flooding and all sorts of problems. School
had even been cancelled one day because the winds were too strong for the
school buses to travel. That was the first time I’d witnessed rain that never
stopped, not even for a minute. On the plus side, Fletcher’s health slightly
improved. While he still looked terrible, at least he was up for doing
something outside of the house. I’d talked him into going to the fabric store
with me even though he hated any kind of shopping.
I still didn’t know what to do with my
beautiful lilac fabric, so I’d decided to set it aside to work on something
else. I needed to sew. It was calming and therapeutic. My mission was to find
an awesome plaid print.
“How come you never make me anything?”
Fletcher asked as we rounded a corner, huddled underneath my umbrella.
I hadn’t thought much about making
something for him or anyone else. Besides Fletcher and I, no one liked my
dresses. “I don’t know how to make shirts or pants, just dresses.”
“It doesn’t have to be those things, just
something. I’d love to wear something you made.”
My cheeks warmed slightly despite the
chill in the air. I hoped my face wasn’t red. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
Maybe I could make him a hat or something.
Fletcher held the door open for me as we
stepped into Molly’s Fabrics. I shook my umbrella out and placed it in the
holder beside the door.
As usual, the store was practically empty of
customers. Almost right away, I settled on a red and black plaid material. It
spoke to me and it was different from anything I had ever used. I could see the
dress coming together right before my eyes—the puffy sleeves, gold buttons,
maybe even a short train. While the salesperson cut the amount of fabric I
requested, Fletcher and I waited by the plate glass window. He held up some
white lace. “This is my favorite look on you. When you wear white frilly
things. It’s pretty. You look like an Angel.”
I shuddered. Why did he have to say that?
Rose was an Angel. He had kissed Rose, something he would never do to me. The
times we had kissed, I initiated it and he responded like a cold fish. I moved
over to the register and asked if the fabric was ready.
After I paid for my material, we headed
for the coffee shop. Fletcher ordered a hot chocolate with all the fixings
while I had a black coffee, no sugar.
Fletcher sipped his hot
Similar Books
