Read Online Pinpoint (Point #4) by Olivia Luck - Free Book Online Page A

hiding your emotions. Jana has no idea she drives you up the wall with her micromanaging. That’s a win from any way you look at it.” I sip my own drink.
    “What’s that look for?”
    “I didn’t realize I had a look.”
    “You’re frowning a little,” Violet tells me.
    “Someone told me recently every emotion shows plain as day on my face. Point proven, I suppose.”
    Violet’s brows draw together, her eyes darken with her mama bear protectiveness. “Who told you that?”
    I wave her off. “Nothing to get upset about. It’s true, isn’t it? As soon as I started thinking that I’m too emotive, you spotted it right away. At least my face keeps me honest.”
    “Who told you this?” Violet repeats, this time adding a scowl.
    All of a sudden, I’m feeling protective. I don’t want my sister to think badly of Oscar. On the other hand, I don’t know how to lie. Finally, I sigh and spit out the words. “Oscar mentioned it. It sounds critical, I know, but it didn’t come out that way. It was more of an observation. Retract your claws.”
    Mollified, Violet perks up. “Oh, now he’s making observations about your personality, is he? Try and tell me again that he’s not interested in you.”
    Shaking my head, I rise to my feet, taking my cappuccino with me. “This is one thing you’re wrong on, sister, sister.” She follows me to the front section of the lofted space where our desks face each other.
    “Okay, okay. I’ll let up on the Oscar—Iris romance. But I won’t hide that I’m excited you are developing a friendship with a man.” Violet shuts her eyes briefly. “When I first got to college, I was hesitant around guys because I thought they were all like our dad. Mean, controlling, dismissive, cruel.” Her deep blue eyes are full of remorse. I understand that scarcity. It follows me to this day. “It took a while for me to figure out that Father was an outlier.”
    “Yeah,” I murmur in agreement. “The impact of our childhood is far reaching.”
    Violet flings her arms wide, looking around the loft. “Look where we are now.”
    “The right place.”

A month passes.
    Weekly visits with Jana continue. I organize my lessons plans, attend an orientation, and generally prepare for the start of Mentoring Chicago at the end of August. Expertly Planned hosts a breast cancer awareness luncheon and organizes a wedding for a player on the Chicago Wind. I don’t see Oscar again during that time, to my dismay, but it’s probably for the best. Unrequited desire can’t be good for my burgeoning self-esteem.
    I park the silver midsize SUV Violet and I share in the parking lot adjacent to Grover High School.
    “Today’s the big day,” I hum to myself.
    The tingles are present in my fingertips. Not the thrilling kind—more like the panicky, anxious sensations that make me rethink why I ever wanted to volunteer with high school kids in the first place. They are going to eat me alive.
    “No. You can do this. You want to make a difference in these kids’ lives.” Saying the words aloud rattles me out of my anxious reverie. In the backseat, I have bags of ingredients and items for the students. I juggle all of my bags, pushing some onto my shoulder and gripping others in my hands.
    “Let me help you with that.” A hand reaches out to collect some of my bags. Bruce, the bearded man from Mentoring Chicago who interviewed me, grins at me.
    “Very prepared. You’re proving us right in our selection of you.”
    I smile shyly at him. “Thanks for the help. Not that I’m not glad to see you, but what are you doing here?”
    “Volunteer coordinators always roam around to observe our students. At Grover, there’s a cooking, not to be confused with baking, class, writing, computer science, and a few others.”
    “Ah, so you’re here to make sure I don’t completely screw up. No pressure.” Bruce opens one of the windowed doors for me, and I walk ahead of him.
    “Nothing like that. I have full