Read Online Mixed Feelings (Empathy in the PPNW Book 1) by Olivia R. Burton - Free Book Online
Authors: Olivia R. Burton
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the
loneliness in her , garbled up along the edges
of her hate like gum stuck to the bottom of really uncomfortable shoes. It
seems to jump out at me sometimes , so cold it nearly burns,
reminding me that, sure she’s as awful as a leering gargoyle, but she’ s still human.
So I put my best professional
foot forward every week, grinning and bearing her presence and assuring myself
that one day karma will reward me for being a good person.
Waiting for karma can only
get me so far, though, so I satisfy myself in the present by refusing to offer
her any of the candy in the dish on my desk. When there's candy in it, that
is—the honey thief had made off with that, too . Or Chloe had hidden it; it wouldn’t surprise me now that she knew how
many extra birthday cupcakes I’d scarfed down.
“I know you’re just waiting
for me to leave , ” Mrs. Quottrich said tartly, surprising me. I glanced
past her as quickly as I could to the clock above the couch and nodded, my
insides leaping with joy. I had somehow lost track of time and not noticed I
was nearly free of her. When I looked back to her, I found her irritation had
been knocked down and kicked to the side to make way for a swampy flood of
insult. I hadn’t even said anything, but evidently she saw something in my face
that she didn’t like.
“Yes, it does look like our
time is up. Would you like some help to the door?”
Mrs. Q ’s eyes narrowed as her lip pulled up slightly in a
snarl. I ignored it, pushing to my feet and moving around my desk to help her.
Stubborn resolve, or perhaps arthritis in her narrow legs, kept her sitting as
I stepped toward her as slowly as possible. I could put up a front like I would
help her, but we both knew it would never happen. The few times I’d tried,
she’d slapped at me and insisted she didn’t need want me to touch her.
Watching her make her
hobbling way out, I stuck my tongue out at the old lady’s back. Chloe's cheery
goodbye got her only a slanted look and a cross comment regarding her low-cut
shirt. As the outer door slammed shut,
Chloe grinned at me.
“You survived!” She clapped gleefully .
“Unfortunately, so did she,” I sig hed.
Chloe pressed on,
refusing to let me vent the grumpy steam I'd built up spending an hour with
Mrs. Quottrich.
“I was thinking about our
problem—the real one,” she clarified, anticipating and ignoring my
forthcoming bitchiness. “ W e should go see Merrin . ”
“ I hadn ’t even thought of that,” I admitted, leaning against
the desk. “ It ’s been awhile since we’ve
seen her, actually. I wonder how she’ s doing. ”
“Oh, I visit from time to
time. I was there two weeks ago, just to get a palm reading and toss her some
cash. She looked better, actually. Still not… you know, normal , but cleaned up.”
“Hopefully that works in our
favor. We’re free for, what?” I held out a hand, gestured to Chloe’s watch when
she didn’t step closer. “Two hours until the next appointment? We can bolt
over, ask for help, drop some cash and maybe a few sandwiches on her, and be
back in plenty of time. Even if it ends up snowing like the weatherman
threatened and everyone else forgets how to drive.”
“ Will do, boss. ” Mimicking Mel ’s action from earlier, Chloe saluted me, turned
stiffly on her heel , and headed to her desk.
I wai ted, still leaning against my desk as I thought about
our young witch friend. When I’d first met her, I wouldn’t have known to call
her a witch, but she’d informed me of the label during one of her rambling,
vacant-eyed speeches. I’d also learned then that if she was to travel to
certain parts of Indiana, she might still be burned as such.
What the hell do you say to a
thing like that?
I didn’t know her exact age,
but her slight, almost underfed stature and dreamy personality made me think
she wasn’ t yet t wenty. I ’d stumbled on her a year or
so ago and Chloe and I had sort of made her our pet project. Merrin
loneliness in her , garbled up along the edges
of her hate like gum stuck to the bottom of really uncomfortable shoes. It
seems to jump out at me sometimes , so cold it nearly burns,
reminding me that, sure she’s as awful as a leering gargoyle, but she’ s still human.
So I put my best professional
foot forward every week, grinning and bearing her presence and assuring myself
that one day karma will reward me for being a good person.
Waiting for karma can only
get me so far, though, so I satisfy myself in the present by refusing to offer
her any of the candy in the dish on my desk. When there's candy in it, that
is—the honey thief had made off with that, too . Or Chloe had hidden it; it wouldn’t surprise me now that she knew how
many extra birthday cupcakes I’d scarfed down.
“I know you’re just waiting
for me to leave , ” Mrs. Quottrich said tartly, surprising me. I glanced
past her as quickly as I could to the clock above the couch and nodded, my
insides leaping with joy. I had somehow lost track of time and not noticed I
was nearly free of her. When I looked back to her, I found her irritation had
been knocked down and kicked to the side to make way for a swampy flood of
insult. I hadn’t even said anything, but evidently she saw something in my face
that she didn’t like.
“Yes, it does look like our
time is up. Would you like some help to the door?”
Mrs. Q ’s eyes narrowed as her lip pulled up slightly in a
snarl. I ignored it, pushing to my feet and moving around my desk to help her.
Stubborn resolve, or perhaps arthritis in her narrow legs, kept her sitting as
I stepped toward her as slowly as possible. I could put up a front like I would
help her, but we both knew it would never happen. The few times I’d tried,
she’d slapped at me and insisted she didn’t need want me to touch her.
Watching her make her
hobbling way out, I stuck my tongue out at the old lady’s back. Chloe's cheery
goodbye got her only a slanted look and a cross comment regarding her low-cut
shirt. As the outer door slammed shut,
Chloe grinned at me.
“You survived!” She clapped gleefully .
“Unfortunately, so did she,” I sig hed.
Chloe pressed on,
refusing to let me vent the grumpy steam I'd built up spending an hour with
Mrs. Quottrich.
“I was thinking about our
problem—the real one,” she clarified, anticipating and ignoring my
forthcoming bitchiness. “ W e should go see Merrin . ”
“ I hadn ’t even thought of that,” I admitted, leaning against
the desk. “ It ’s been awhile since we’ve
seen her, actually. I wonder how she’ s doing. ”
“Oh, I visit from time to
time. I was there two weeks ago, just to get a palm reading and toss her some
cash. She looked better, actually. Still not… you know, normal , but cleaned up.”
“Hopefully that works in our
favor. We’re free for, what?” I held out a hand, gestured to Chloe’s watch when
she didn’t step closer. “Two hours until the next appointment? We can bolt
over, ask for help, drop some cash and maybe a few sandwiches on her, and be
back in plenty of time. Even if it ends up snowing like the weatherman
threatened and everyone else forgets how to drive.”
“ Will do, boss. ” Mimicking Mel ’s action from earlier, Chloe saluted me, turned
stiffly on her heel , and headed to her desk.
I wai ted, still leaning against my desk as I thought about
our young witch friend. When I’d first met her, I wouldn’t have known to call
her a witch, but she’d informed me of the label during one of her rambling,
vacant-eyed speeches. I’d also learned then that if she was to travel to
certain parts of Indiana, she might still be burned as such.
What the hell do you say to a
thing like that?
I didn’t know her exact age,
but her slight, almost underfed stature and dreamy personality made me think
she wasn’ t yet t wenty. I ’d stumbled on her a year or
so ago and Chloe and I had sort of made her our pet project. Merrin
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