Read Online Finding Home by Megan Nugen Isbell - Free Book Online
Authors: Megan Nugen Isbell
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can’t believe you’re not a virgin anymore.”
I sat back down on the bed, looking up at my sister.
“You shouldn’t be all that shocked. I’m twenty-one. That’s ancient in today’s society.”
“Yeah, but it’s you. You always do the right thing. You never do anything that goes against what Mom and Dad say.”
“Well…I finally did and I wish I could take it back. Promise me your first time won’t be with a total jerk, okay?”
“Promise,” she said, looking down at me with pity.
“Good night, Shay.”
“Night,” she said and then she was gone a moment later, leaving me alone in my room. I crawled under the covers and then reached for my Kindle on the nightstand. I turned it on and opened the book I was in the middle of, but I didn’t start reading. My eyes just stared at the words on the screen, but I didn’t read. My mind was on the text from Derek. Not for one second did I regret breaking up with him. What I regretted was that I’d started dating him at all. I was beginning to think Carver bred nothing but jerks. I wondered if there was a secret class boys had to go to that I wasn’t aware of that taught them how to treat girls like crap. I’d seen my share of it: Alex, Derek, even Brandon at times. But then I thought about Jesse and I thought perhaps there were still some good guys out there. Then I remembered that although Jesse treated Riley like a princess, he had left her with no warning, so even he had a hint of asshole in his blood.
I turned on my side, put the Kindle back on the night stand and turned off the light. I wouldn’t be able to focus on the book, so there was no need to even try. I closed my eyes and thought about the most pressing decision in my life…what I would start with in the morning: banana bread or peanut butter cookies? My life was so pathetic.
Five
I was glad I started early because by eleven o’clock, the kitchen was a sweltering mess. The double oven had been going all morning and it had to be at least ten degrees warmer in the kitchen than anywhere else in the house. Shay was gone at a violin lesson and my parents were both at work. It was nice to have the house to myself and I was blaring Carrie Underwood from my iPod as I mixed my latest creation in a bowl: double chocolate chip cookies. Traces of flour were all over the place, including the apron I was wearing. It used to be my grandma’s. The faded plaid material trimmed in white ruffles made me look about seventy-five, but I always wore it when I baked ever since my grandma passed away five years ago. She was the one who’d taught me to love baking and she’d worn the same apron each time we made something. I decided to carry on the tradition.
I finished mixing the batter and began scooping it onto the cookie sheet when a loud rap on the front door caused my head to jerk up and stare into the living room. I set the bowl down and wiped my hands on the apron before heading towards the door, which was closed in a feeble attempt to help with the efficiency of the air conditioner.
When I opened the door, I was both surprised and not surprised to see Brandon standing there, hands in his pockets, looking up at me through the screen door. His blue eyes looked apologetic and nervous at the same time.
I’d stopped feeling sorry for myself after a good night’s sleep. I hadn’t thought of Derek or what Brandon and Jesse had done to me since I’d started baking. Baking had a way of making everything alright. It was like therapy to me. Delicious therapy, which did nothing to help my butt and thighs.
“Brandon…hi,” I said.
“Hey. Can I come in?” he asked and I nodded, pushing the door open and he stepped inside.
“What brings you by?”
“I thought you could use some help. You said you were making stuff for the bake sale.”
“You wanna help me bake?” I raised a doubtful eyebrow at him.
“If
I sat back down on the bed, looking up at my sister.
“You shouldn’t be all that shocked. I’m twenty-one. That’s ancient in today’s society.”
“Yeah, but it’s you. You always do the right thing. You never do anything that goes against what Mom and Dad say.”
“Well…I finally did and I wish I could take it back. Promise me your first time won’t be with a total jerk, okay?”
“Promise,” she said, looking down at me with pity.
“Good night, Shay.”
“Night,” she said and then she was gone a moment later, leaving me alone in my room. I crawled under the covers and then reached for my Kindle on the nightstand. I turned it on and opened the book I was in the middle of, but I didn’t start reading. My eyes just stared at the words on the screen, but I didn’t read. My mind was on the text from Derek. Not for one second did I regret breaking up with him. What I regretted was that I’d started dating him at all. I was beginning to think Carver bred nothing but jerks. I wondered if there was a secret class boys had to go to that I wasn’t aware of that taught them how to treat girls like crap. I’d seen my share of it: Alex, Derek, even Brandon at times. But then I thought about Jesse and I thought perhaps there were still some good guys out there. Then I remembered that although Jesse treated Riley like a princess, he had left her with no warning, so even he had a hint of asshole in his blood.
I turned on my side, put the Kindle back on the night stand and turned off the light. I wouldn’t be able to focus on the book, so there was no need to even try. I closed my eyes and thought about the most pressing decision in my life…what I would start with in the morning: banana bread or peanut butter cookies? My life was so pathetic.
Five
I was glad I started early because by eleven o’clock, the kitchen was a sweltering mess. The double oven had been going all morning and it had to be at least ten degrees warmer in the kitchen than anywhere else in the house. Shay was gone at a violin lesson and my parents were both at work. It was nice to have the house to myself and I was blaring Carrie Underwood from my iPod as I mixed my latest creation in a bowl: double chocolate chip cookies. Traces of flour were all over the place, including the apron I was wearing. It used to be my grandma’s. The faded plaid material trimmed in white ruffles made me look about seventy-five, but I always wore it when I baked ever since my grandma passed away five years ago. She was the one who’d taught me to love baking and she’d worn the same apron each time we made something. I decided to carry on the tradition.
I finished mixing the batter and began scooping it onto the cookie sheet when a loud rap on the front door caused my head to jerk up and stare into the living room. I set the bowl down and wiped my hands on the apron before heading towards the door, which was closed in a feeble attempt to help with the efficiency of the air conditioner.
When I opened the door, I was both surprised and not surprised to see Brandon standing there, hands in his pockets, looking up at me through the screen door. His blue eyes looked apologetic and nervous at the same time.
I’d stopped feeling sorry for myself after a good night’s sleep. I hadn’t thought of Derek or what Brandon and Jesse had done to me since I’d started baking. Baking had a way of making everything alright. It was like therapy to me. Delicious therapy, which did nothing to help my butt and thighs.
“Brandon…hi,” I said.
“Hey. Can I come in?” he asked and I nodded, pushing the door open and he stepped inside.
“What brings you by?”
“I thought you could use some help. You said you were making stuff for the bake sale.”
“You wanna help me bake?” I raised a doubtful eyebrow at him.
“If
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