Read Online Out of Nowhere by Rebecca Phillips - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rebecca Phillips
Ads: Link
doing right now.
“You feeling okay, babe?” Mom peered through the rearview mirror at me as she drove toward home. “You’re awfully quiet today.”
“I think I’m getting a migraine,” I lied.
“Oh.” She frowned and glanced at Jeff, who was squeezed into the passenger seat next to her, his head almost touching the ceiling. “Well, all that sun probably didn’t help matters.”
I closed my eyes as if I couldn’t take any more brightness. It was a warm, beautiful Sunday, more like summer than late spring. We’d spent the entire day at Crawford Park, where Mom and Jeff watched Tristan on the playground while I sat off to the side on a bench, playing with my iPod and stealing peeks at the skatepark a few yards away, trying to figure out the appeal. After about an hour of observation, I still didn’t get it.
Then we’d gone to McDonald’s, where Mom and Jeff laughed about Tristan’s French fry obsession while I sat off to the side on a sticky seat, playing with my iPod and wishing I was somewhere else.
Now we were turning onto our street, and I thought if I had to spend one more minute pretending to fit in and have fun, I really would get a migraine.
Jeff carried a still-sleeping Tristan into the house like he was made of paper. Instead of setting him in his crib for a late nap, he sat down on the couch, cradling him against his broad chest. Tristan was limp in sleep, totally out of it after a long day of climbing up and down the jungle gym.
“I hope he didn’t get sunburned,” Mom said, sitting down next to them. She ran her fingers over the baby’s tender skin, flushed with sleep but not sun, and smiled. Then she looked up at me, still standing there in the doorway. “Why don’t you go lay down, hon? I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” Without waiting for an answer, she put her head on Jeff’s shoulder and the two of them gazed down at their angelic-looking son, their faces lazy and content.
“Right,” I muttered, and went to my room.
Lucy and Alice were curled up together on my pillows, orange fur mingling with gray. This house is one big love-fest, I thought, flopping on the bed beside them. I felt about as wanted as a gastrointestinal virus.
Then, like a brash, foul-mouthed savior, Sydney called. “I need your help with bio,” she said. She sounded about two seconds away from a nervous breakdown. “There’s this review quiz tomorrow and then the final exam in two weeks and I don’t understand this one section. Please oh please, I am desperate.”
“Calm down,” I said, glad for something new to focus on. “Of course I’ll help you.” I took honors biology and she took regular, but both classes covered basically the same concepts.
“Thank you thank you thank you, you’re the best friend ever ,” Sydney gushed. “Can you come over, like, right now?”
It felt nice to be needed. “I’m on my way.”
I grabbed my backpack and bolted for the door, calling to my mom over my shoulder that I’d be back later tonight and to not save any dinner for me.
“Wait! Where are you going? What about your migraine?”
“It’s gone,” I told her. “I’m going to help Sydney study for bio.”
“Do you need a drive?” Mom asked. She and Jeff were still snuggling with Tristan on the couch, the three of them positively radiating family bliss.
“I’ll walk.”
“Be home before dark!” she yelled just before I shut the door behind me.
It felt good to be outside and moving. Just me and my music and the late afternoon sun on my face. I reached Sydney’s apartment complex way too soon.
“Finally,” came her voice over the intercom when I buzzed up. She let me in and I took the elevator to the third floor. Sydney’s building was nothing like Lucas’s. The halls were dark, the carpets thin and stained. Children’s cries drifted out from underneath apartment doors, along with blaring TVs and raised voices. The whole place smelled like boiled potatoes and cigarette
“You feeling okay, babe?” Mom peered through the rearview mirror at me as she drove toward home. “You’re awfully quiet today.”
“I think I’m getting a migraine,” I lied.
“Oh.” She frowned and glanced at Jeff, who was squeezed into the passenger seat next to her, his head almost touching the ceiling. “Well, all that sun probably didn’t help matters.”
I closed my eyes as if I couldn’t take any more brightness. It was a warm, beautiful Sunday, more like summer than late spring. We’d spent the entire day at Crawford Park, where Mom and Jeff watched Tristan on the playground while I sat off to the side on a bench, playing with my iPod and stealing peeks at the skatepark a few yards away, trying to figure out the appeal. After about an hour of observation, I still didn’t get it.
Then we’d gone to McDonald’s, where Mom and Jeff laughed about Tristan’s French fry obsession while I sat off to the side on a sticky seat, playing with my iPod and wishing I was somewhere else.
Now we were turning onto our street, and I thought if I had to spend one more minute pretending to fit in and have fun, I really would get a migraine.
Jeff carried a still-sleeping Tristan into the house like he was made of paper. Instead of setting him in his crib for a late nap, he sat down on the couch, cradling him against his broad chest. Tristan was limp in sleep, totally out of it after a long day of climbing up and down the jungle gym.
“I hope he didn’t get sunburned,” Mom said, sitting down next to them. She ran her fingers over the baby’s tender skin, flushed with sleep but not sun, and smiled. Then she looked up at me, still standing there in the doorway. “Why don’t you go lay down, hon? I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” Without waiting for an answer, she put her head on Jeff’s shoulder and the two of them gazed down at their angelic-looking son, their faces lazy and content.
“Right,” I muttered, and went to my room.
Lucy and Alice were curled up together on my pillows, orange fur mingling with gray. This house is one big love-fest, I thought, flopping on the bed beside them. I felt about as wanted as a gastrointestinal virus.
Then, like a brash, foul-mouthed savior, Sydney called. “I need your help with bio,” she said. She sounded about two seconds away from a nervous breakdown. “There’s this review quiz tomorrow and then the final exam in two weeks and I don’t understand this one section. Please oh please, I am desperate.”
“Calm down,” I said, glad for something new to focus on. “Of course I’ll help you.” I took honors biology and she took regular, but both classes covered basically the same concepts.
“Thank you thank you thank you, you’re the best friend ever ,” Sydney gushed. “Can you come over, like, right now?”
It felt nice to be needed. “I’m on my way.”
I grabbed my backpack and bolted for the door, calling to my mom over my shoulder that I’d be back later tonight and to not save any dinner for me.
“Wait! Where are you going? What about your migraine?”
“It’s gone,” I told her. “I’m going to help Sydney study for bio.”
“Do you need a drive?” Mom asked. She and Jeff were still snuggling with Tristan on the couch, the three of them positively radiating family bliss.
“I’ll walk.”
“Be home before dark!” she yelled just before I shut the door behind me.
It felt good to be outside and moving. Just me and my music and the late afternoon sun on my face. I reached Sydney’s apartment complex way too soon.
“Finally,” came her voice over the intercom when I buzzed up. She let me in and I took the elevator to the third floor. Sydney’s building was nothing like Lucas’s. The halls were dark, the carpets thin and stained. Children’s cries drifted out from underneath apartment doors, along with blaring TVs and raised voices. The whole place smelled like boiled potatoes and cigarette
Similar Books
