Read Online Spectacle (A Young Adult Novel) by Angie McCullagh - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Angie McCullagh
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gotta split. A bunch of us r going to Myrtle Edwards Park. You know, before the weather turns to complete crap.
Emily stifled her disappointment. She pounded out: Which should be any day now.
Ryan: Any minute.
Emily: Have fun!
Ryan: U too. Doing whatever you’re gonna do this afternoon, I mean.
Simultaneously, they wrote “Bye.” And she logged off and jumped away from the computer, as if spending more time on it would tarnish the chat she’d just had with Ryan.
Melissa strode into the kitchen, still in her running spandex. She mopped sweat from her forehead and said, “You look spooked.”
“I just,” Emily started, faltered, then tried again. “I just don’t know what to do about jeans.”
Melissa took a long drink from her metal water bottle. “How about if you and I go shopping?”
Shopping with Melissa wasn’t on Emily’s list of desired Saturday activities. “Where?” she asked, doubtfully.
“Pacific Place?”
The risk of running into people she knew at Pacific Place was too high. “Southcenter?” Emily suggested. It was farther away and had more stores.
“Really?” Melissa said. “That’s way down there.” She took another drink, then said, “Unless—oh. That’s your point.”
Emily looked up at her.
Melissa said, “Okay. Southcenter. Just let me shower and grab a bite to eat.”
“We could get something down there,” Emily suggested.
Shaking her head, Melissa said, “Unless I can get tuna on rice cakes with a kale smoothie chaser, I think I’ll eat here.”
“Nasty.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she started upstairs. “Just wait until you’re in your late thirties. You’ll start doing whatever you can to slow it down.”
Emily knew she’d never resort to eating like that. Where was the joy in tuna and kale?
Besides, late thirties? She couldn’t even wrap her mind around mid twenties . Where would she be then? Grad school? Dating? Would she have a boyfriend, or be left behind while all her friends furiously got married and popped out babies?
“Never!” she called after Melissa. It was going to be Pop-Tarts and peanut butter and jelly the whole way through.
15. Home Alone
T RIX FELT LONELIER than ever.
1. Her mom was out with the Octopus guy again.
2. Trix had, of course, no boyfriend to occupy her.
3. And virginal Emily was being all high and mighty, texting that she was going to lay low and have a quiet night at home.
Trix lay on her bed, smoking cigarette after cigarette, too despondent to even get up and turn on the TV.
She needed to diversify. Emily couldn’t be her only/best friend. They were growing too far apart.
She thought about how they’d first started hanging out in seventh grade. Emily, tall and rangy, was sitting in the cafeteria eating an apple and reading a book. Trix was new to the school, having just transferred up from Fife.
Three girls, now known as the Farkettes, were across the table from Emily, ganging up, asking if she played basketball or volleyball, and telling her she looked like a walking toothpick.
Trix hated seeing anyone picked on. She was the type to collect strays and try to protect them. She approached the group. Emily looked up at her with hopeful, fearful eyes, unsure if Trix was there to join in the abuse or befriend her.
“What’s wrong with being different?” she yelled at April Kinsmith, the trio’s clear ringleader. Trix hadn’t quite honed her rhetorical skills into the jagged barbs they would become. “You want everyone to look like you three? I can’t imagine a more boring world.”
Emily had given her a nervous smile. “It’s okay,” she said.
“No, it’s not. These girls need to learn how to treat people. And how looking like a bland middle school clone isn’t what anyone should strive for.”
“Coming from you,” April said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
True, Trix was wearing her faux-snake skin heels, super-flared jeans, and a purple peasant top covered by a velvet
Emily stifled her disappointment. She pounded out: Which should be any day now.
Ryan: Any minute.
Emily: Have fun!
Ryan: U too. Doing whatever you’re gonna do this afternoon, I mean.
Simultaneously, they wrote “Bye.” And she logged off and jumped away from the computer, as if spending more time on it would tarnish the chat she’d just had with Ryan.
Melissa strode into the kitchen, still in her running spandex. She mopped sweat from her forehead and said, “You look spooked.”
“I just,” Emily started, faltered, then tried again. “I just don’t know what to do about jeans.”
Melissa took a long drink from her metal water bottle. “How about if you and I go shopping?”
Shopping with Melissa wasn’t on Emily’s list of desired Saturday activities. “Where?” she asked, doubtfully.
“Pacific Place?”
The risk of running into people she knew at Pacific Place was too high. “Southcenter?” Emily suggested. It was farther away and had more stores.
“Really?” Melissa said. “That’s way down there.” She took another drink, then said, “Unless—oh. That’s your point.”
Emily looked up at her.
Melissa said, “Okay. Southcenter. Just let me shower and grab a bite to eat.”
“We could get something down there,” Emily suggested.
Shaking her head, Melissa said, “Unless I can get tuna on rice cakes with a kale smoothie chaser, I think I’ll eat here.”
“Nasty.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she started upstairs. “Just wait until you’re in your late thirties. You’ll start doing whatever you can to slow it down.”
Emily knew she’d never resort to eating like that. Where was the joy in tuna and kale?
Besides, late thirties? She couldn’t even wrap her mind around mid twenties . Where would she be then? Grad school? Dating? Would she have a boyfriend, or be left behind while all her friends furiously got married and popped out babies?
“Never!” she called after Melissa. It was going to be Pop-Tarts and peanut butter and jelly the whole way through.
15. Home Alone
T RIX FELT LONELIER than ever.
1. Her mom was out with the Octopus guy again.
2. Trix had, of course, no boyfriend to occupy her.
3. And virginal Emily was being all high and mighty, texting that she was going to lay low and have a quiet night at home.
Trix lay on her bed, smoking cigarette after cigarette, too despondent to even get up and turn on the TV.
She needed to diversify. Emily couldn’t be her only/best friend. They were growing too far apart.
She thought about how they’d first started hanging out in seventh grade. Emily, tall and rangy, was sitting in the cafeteria eating an apple and reading a book. Trix was new to the school, having just transferred up from Fife.
Three girls, now known as the Farkettes, were across the table from Emily, ganging up, asking if she played basketball or volleyball, and telling her she looked like a walking toothpick.
Trix hated seeing anyone picked on. She was the type to collect strays and try to protect them. She approached the group. Emily looked up at her with hopeful, fearful eyes, unsure if Trix was there to join in the abuse or befriend her.
“What’s wrong with being different?” she yelled at April Kinsmith, the trio’s clear ringleader. Trix hadn’t quite honed her rhetorical skills into the jagged barbs they would become. “You want everyone to look like you three? I can’t imagine a more boring world.”
Emily had given her a nervous smile. “It’s okay,” she said.
“No, it’s not. These girls need to learn how to treat people. And how looking like a bland middle school clone isn’t what anyone should strive for.”
“Coming from you,” April said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
True, Trix was wearing her faux-snake skin heels, super-flared jeans, and a purple peasant top covered by a velvet
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