Read Online Silvern (The Gilded Series) by Christina Farley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christina Farley
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and threaten my family. But that would be a lie, and the last time I tried to pretend it all away, it didn’t work out so well. In fact, I ended up with a nice little golden trinket on my wrist.
My toe rams into something on the ground and I stumble. My tray slides out of my hands, my food and water bottle scattering across the ground. A hand swoops down and pulls me up. It’s Marc, of course. My hero. Sporting dark jeans and a black T-shirt, looking way too adorable.
“Your water, my lady,” Marc says with a twinkle in his eyes, handing me my bottle.
“Thanks.” I take the bottle, its surface cool against my palm. “I was remembering a certain somebody and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
He wraps his hands behind my neck and kisses me on the forehead. “He’s gone,” Marc whispers into my ear. “I remember you kicking his butt. Vividly.”
“Hey, you two.” Michelle bats me on the shoulder with her chopsticks. “Enough. Come and sit. We only have twenty-two minutes left of lunch.”
“We’ll talk later,” Marc says.
“Talk?” I flash Marc a mischievous grin.
He laughs as he sits next to me. Most of the NHS students have already gathered at the concrete tables, so after we settle in, Mrs. Freeman gets right to business.
She starts off the meeting with a quick reminder of what we’ve been doing as a group. “We have one final project that we want to do before the end of the year. Any thoughts?”
“Lily has this great idea of doing a Dano mask party,” Kumar says.
“I posted the details on the wiki,” Lily adds, tucking her long blond hair behind her ears. She’s biting her lips as if she’s nervous. From her tense posture and wide blue eyes, I can tell this Dano mask party means a lot to her. I cringe, knowing I’m about to shove her idea aside as if it’s not important. I flip open my tablet and log in to the NHS wiki. I scroll down until I find our brainstorming thread.
“I also posted an idea on the wiki last night,” I tell the group.
“Jae Hwa,” Mrs. Freeman says, smiling and bobbing her head vigorously. “I’m so pleased you’re starting to contribute to our group.”
I want to sink under the table. I don’t deserve her praise. My motives are far more complicated than I could possibly explain. Instead, I plunge in. “I’d like to raise money to buy medical supplies for North Korean TB patients. And then deliver them.”
Everyone stares at me, gaping mouths and saucer eyes.
“Dude,” Yuuki says. “That’s crazy talk.”
“A death wish,” Myung-Hee says, nodding. “But it’s a heroic way to go down.”
“I thought North Korea wasn’t allowing tourists into the country,” Kumar says in his usual practical voice. “Not that anyone would after that last missile launch test.”
Everyone starts sharing the most horrific North Korean story they can remember. I look over at Marc, seeking his support, but he’s sketching a picture in his notebook of two people lying on the beach under an umbrella. He labels it “Bora-Bora” and then shoots me a wicked grin.
“There’s still time to back out,” he whispers. “Think of all the fun we’d have there.”
“You’re not helping,” I whisper. Still, a smile creeps over my face.
“What an admirable endeavor,” Mrs. Freeman says, a smile plastered to her face. One that appears to be painful, as if she’s trying not to grimace. “But I doubt Dr. Baker would approve.”
She’s right. Our principal will nix this faster than I can eat kimbap . My mind scrambles for a convincing argument. Honestly, it feels as if this mission is doomed before it’s even begun.
“True, but I was doing some research,” I say, even though it was Jung who did the research. “They do allow relief and medical aid workers in. And it’s something the North Korean government encourages for their supposed reunification image.”
“The Keck School of Medicine has recently started a program for their
My toe rams into something on the ground and I stumble. My tray slides out of my hands, my food and water bottle scattering across the ground. A hand swoops down and pulls me up. It’s Marc, of course. My hero. Sporting dark jeans and a black T-shirt, looking way too adorable.
“Your water, my lady,” Marc says with a twinkle in his eyes, handing me my bottle.
“Thanks.” I take the bottle, its surface cool against my palm. “I was remembering a certain somebody and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
He wraps his hands behind my neck and kisses me on the forehead. “He’s gone,” Marc whispers into my ear. “I remember you kicking his butt. Vividly.”
“Hey, you two.” Michelle bats me on the shoulder with her chopsticks. “Enough. Come and sit. We only have twenty-two minutes left of lunch.”
“We’ll talk later,” Marc says.
“Talk?” I flash Marc a mischievous grin.
He laughs as he sits next to me. Most of the NHS students have already gathered at the concrete tables, so after we settle in, Mrs. Freeman gets right to business.
She starts off the meeting with a quick reminder of what we’ve been doing as a group. “We have one final project that we want to do before the end of the year. Any thoughts?”
“Lily has this great idea of doing a Dano mask party,” Kumar says.
“I posted the details on the wiki,” Lily adds, tucking her long blond hair behind her ears. She’s biting her lips as if she’s nervous. From her tense posture and wide blue eyes, I can tell this Dano mask party means a lot to her. I cringe, knowing I’m about to shove her idea aside as if it’s not important. I flip open my tablet and log in to the NHS wiki. I scroll down until I find our brainstorming thread.
“I also posted an idea on the wiki last night,” I tell the group.
“Jae Hwa,” Mrs. Freeman says, smiling and bobbing her head vigorously. “I’m so pleased you’re starting to contribute to our group.”
I want to sink under the table. I don’t deserve her praise. My motives are far more complicated than I could possibly explain. Instead, I plunge in. “I’d like to raise money to buy medical supplies for North Korean TB patients. And then deliver them.”
Everyone stares at me, gaping mouths and saucer eyes.
“Dude,” Yuuki says. “That’s crazy talk.”
“A death wish,” Myung-Hee says, nodding. “But it’s a heroic way to go down.”
“I thought North Korea wasn’t allowing tourists into the country,” Kumar says in his usual practical voice. “Not that anyone would after that last missile launch test.”
Everyone starts sharing the most horrific North Korean story they can remember. I look over at Marc, seeking his support, but he’s sketching a picture in his notebook of two people lying on the beach under an umbrella. He labels it “Bora-Bora” and then shoots me a wicked grin.
“There’s still time to back out,” he whispers. “Think of all the fun we’d have there.”
“You’re not helping,” I whisper. Still, a smile creeps over my face.
“What an admirable endeavor,” Mrs. Freeman says, a smile plastered to her face. One that appears to be painful, as if she’s trying not to grimace. “But I doubt Dr. Baker would approve.”
She’s right. Our principal will nix this faster than I can eat kimbap . My mind scrambles for a convincing argument. Honestly, it feels as if this mission is doomed before it’s even begun.
“True, but I was doing some research,” I say, even though it was Jung who did the research. “They do allow relief and medical aid workers in. And it’s something the North Korean government encourages for their supposed reunification image.”
“The Keck School of Medicine has recently started a program for their
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