Read Online Gingerbread by Rachel Cohn - Free Book Online
Authors: Rachel Cohn
Tags: Fiction, General, Family, Juvenile Fiction, Children: Young Adult (Gr. 10-12), Social Issues, Interpersonal relations, Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), Children's 12-Up - Fiction - General, Adolescence, Family - General, Social Issues - Adolescence, Mothers and daughters, Stepfamilies, Family - Stepfamilies, Social Situations - Adolescence
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me you want me to wear one of those leotards and wear leggings and act like some kind of dancer girl wannabe," I said to Delia.
"Someone has come to my little dance class with a bad attitude," Delia said. "Someone seems to have forgotten
61
who sprung her from being grounded for the rest of the summer."
"Someone," I said, almost shouting, "HASN'T BEEN CAFFEINATED IN OVER A WEEK!"
Right on cue, Shrimp emerged from the dressing rooms carrying a hot double shot mocha with extra whipped cream, just the way I love. I didn't know whether to throw my arms around him or gulp first.
I chose the coffee. I have my priorities.
We all three sat on the giant wood floor, looking at our reflections in the giant mirrors. Delia was yammering on and on about tap versus modern for our first lesson, but I tuned her out to soak in Shrimp while I had the chance. I wanted to imprint into my memory every inch of his face and body to take back to the long days and nights in Alcatraz.
Shrimp sat by my side with the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. The platinum spike at the front of his head was a little longer and the roots darker than the last time I'd seen him, and his eyelashes, reflected in the afternoon sun peeking through the fog outside the dance studio windows, looked tinted with gold.
As the Java the Hut mocha with extra whip lushed its way through my bloodstream, I suddenly felt like I actually did want to dance. A zigzag combustible whoo-hoo freedom ride nas-tay kinda dance a la Shrimp 'n' Cyd aka porno Fred 'n' Ginger, and I wished Delia, cute as she was with her masses of orange frizzy hair piled on top of her head and her zebra-print tights, would ditch the joint.
Maybe I am just a sex maniac after all.
Shrimp had some whipped cream on his upper lip and
62
I just couldn't help myself. I leaned over to lick it off, but Shrimp looked into my eyes and knew what was on my mind. He quickly darted his eyes toward Delia and then turned his head to the side, so I wound up giving him an innocent eskimo kiss on the cheek.
That gesture sort of pissed me off.
What did he think I was going to do, bust a move on him right in front of Delia? He just looked so tasty and smelled like mountains of coffee beans, who could not want to lick him? But I am a proper girl and it would have been a proper lick.
"We have missed you at the coffeehouse!" Delia said. She babbled into espresso-fueled overdrive. 'All the regulars are asking for you. We have a new girl working your hours named Autumn. Pretty girl but what a disaster! She can't figure out the espresso machine, breaks glasses all the time, always forgets customers' orders, but she's Shrimp's surfing friend and you know how Wallace likes to hire the kids from Ocean Beach."
I have not heard of this Autumn chick before from Shrimp. Cyd Charisse: not happy.
Suddenly I had a bad feeling about Shrimp being lick-free.
"You're not really going to make me dance around, are you?" I said. Maybe it was the sudden stimulation of being paroled from Alcatraz and drowned in coffee and Shrimpness after too bitter an absence, but I was getting a sudden caffeine headache. "Because I do not feel like dancing and all this coffee is making me want to pee."
Why I had to be mean and ornery when Delia and Shrimp were being so nice to me, I don't know.
63
"Dude," Shrimp said, "don't harsh my mellow."
"Well, why don't you go find Miss Autumn and have her un-harsh it for you!" I said. I stomped away to the bathroom.
While I sat on the toilet with my skirt around my ankles, I rested my elbows on my thighs and put my head in hands. I wanted to cry but all the five-minute insta-gulp coffee was making my hands shake so I couldn't concentrate enough to cry.
Autumn. AUTUMN?
"FUCK AUTUMN!" I yelled from the bathroom.
Autumn was probably some scraggly hippie chick with stringy red-gold hair and hairy armpits who carried around a guitar to strum stupid folk songs when she wasn't trying to be Miss Ocean
"Someone has come to my little dance class with a bad attitude," Delia said. "Someone seems to have forgotten
61
who sprung her from being grounded for the rest of the summer."
"Someone," I said, almost shouting, "HASN'T BEEN CAFFEINATED IN OVER A WEEK!"
Right on cue, Shrimp emerged from the dressing rooms carrying a hot double shot mocha with extra whipped cream, just the way I love. I didn't know whether to throw my arms around him or gulp first.
I chose the coffee. I have my priorities.
We all three sat on the giant wood floor, looking at our reflections in the giant mirrors. Delia was yammering on and on about tap versus modern for our first lesson, but I tuned her out to soak in Shrimp while I had the chance. I wanted to imprint into my memory every inch of his face and body to take back to the long days and nights in Alcatraz.
Shrimp sat by my side with the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. The platinum spike at the front of his head was a little longer and the roots darker than the last time I'd seen him, and his eyelashes, reflected in the afternoon sun peeking through the fog outside the dance studio windows, looked tinted with gold.
As the Java the Hut mocha with extra whip lushed its way through my bloodstream, I suddenly felt like I actually did want to dance. A zigzag combustible whoo-hoo freedom ride nas-tay kinda dance a la Shrimp 'n' Cyd aka porno Fred 'n' Ginger, and I wished Delia, cute as she was with her masses of orange frizzy hair piled on top of her head and her zebra-print tights, would ditch the joint.
Maybe I am just a sex maniac after all.
Shrimp had some whipped cream on his upper lip and
62
I just couldn't help myself. I leaned over to lick it off, but Shrimp looked into my eyes and knew what was on my mind. He quickly darted his eyes toward Delia and then turned his head to the side, so I wound up giving him an innocent eskimo kiss on the cheek.
That gesture sort of pissed me off.
What did he think I was going to do, bust a move on him right in front of Delia? He just looked so tasty and smelled like mountains of coffee beans, who could not want to lick him? But I am a proper girl and it would have been a proper lick.
"We have missed you at the coffeehouse!" Delia said. She babbled into espresso-fueled overdrive. 'All the regulars are asking for you. We have a new girl working your hours named Autumn. Pretty girl but what a disaster! She can't figure out the espresso machine, breaks glasses all the time, always forgets customers' orders, but she's Shrimp's surfing friend and you know how Wallace likes to hire the kids from Ocean Beach."
I have not heard of this Autumn chick before from Shrimp. Cyd Charisse: not happy.
Suddenly I had a bad feeling about Shrimp being lick-free.
"You're not really going to make me dance around, are you?" I said. Maybe it was the sudden stimulation of being paroled from Alcatraz and drowned in coffee and Shrimpness after too bitter an absence, but I was getting a sudden caffeine headache. "Because I do not feel like dancing and all this coffee is making me want to pee."
Why I had to be mean and ornery when Delia and Shrimp were being so nice to me, I don't know.
63
"Dude," Shrimp said, "don't harsh my mellow."
"Well, why don't you go find Miss Autumn and have her un-harsh it for you!" I said. I stomped away to the bathroom.
While I sat on the toilet with my skirt around my ankles, I rested my elbows on my thighs and put my head in hands. I wanted to cry but all the five-minute insta-gulp coffee was making my hands shake so I couldn't concentrate enough to cry.
Autumn. AUTUMN?
"FUCK AUTUMN!" I yelled from the bathroom.
Autumn was probably some scraggly hippie chick with stringy red-gold hair and hairy armpits who carried around a guitar to strum stupid folk songs when she wasn't trying to be Miss Ocean
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