Read Online The Seventh Sister, A Paranormal Romance by Z. L. Arkadie - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Z. L. Arkadie
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happens.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I mutter and step around her. That’s when she pushes me in the back, but this time I’m prepared. She shoved me hard, but I don’t budge. My feet are planted muscles contracted.
“Ouch,” she screams and cradles the wrist of the hand she did the pushing with.
Morgan Slater and some girl whose name I think is Debbie rush over to see to her needs. I narrow my eyes at Mr. Lux as I pass him.
It wasn’t my fault , I think, not sure if he hears me or not.
I know , I hear in return, and I stop in my tracks, shocked. He did hear me.
Morgan accompanied Riley to the nurse’s office and class went on as usual. Funny how light the air was without her there. I didn’t realize how much she tainted my peace of mind. I think my way would’ve worked a long time ago. She needed to realize that messing with me is detrimental to her health.
It’s three o’clock on the dot, and I knock on Mrs. Lowenstein’s door as summonsed.
“Come in,” she calls from behind wood and fiberglass, which has her name spelled out in black letters.
When I enter, she’s wearing a genuine smile and the smell of coffee slides up my nose. Mrs. Lowenstein takes a sip of coffee contained in a white cardboard cup.
“We have a Starbucks now.” She raises her eyebrows at me with delight and then motions towards another cup sitting on the desk where I’m to sit. “Would you like a hot macchiato?”
I’m grinning from ear to ear, wondering if Derek mentioned my “vice” to her and if so, why would she supply it for me?
Our meeting was brief. The condescending, smug smile was nonexistent. I learned that she hung new lime-colored curtains in her living room last weekend but afterwards realized they were too ugly and took them down. She’s also thinking about taking a job in Cleveland, Ohio but doesn’t want to leave Moonridge because she thinks it’s an enchanting place. However, she’s turning thirty-five in February, and it’s time to recognize that she’s actually divorced and it’s time to start over.
I must admit, I was stunned she revealed that to me. As a matter of fact, I said absolutely nothing the entire time. When she dismissed me, she said, “I’m sure I won’t have to see you in here anymore. It looks like Mr. Firth has been an excellent influence on you.”
I clamped my lips tightly together to keep from exploding with laughter because that’s when it occurred to me that Derek’s influence over the crazy meeting went beyond the macchiato. It was like he was allowing me to be privy to the sorts of conversations he has with people, where they pour out their souls to him.
When I get to the parking lot, I see a tall figure leaning against the driver’s side door of my jeep. When he senses me he turns to smirks at me. I sniff a chuckle and approach him.
“So do you have a headache?” he asks, still smirking.
I burst out into laughter. I can’t believe he did that. It’s the funniest thing that happened to me since…well, ever!
“No, I guess I don’t,” I admit. “But that was too weird.”
“Well, it wasn’t a mochaccino from Macchiato, but hey, it’s Starbucks.”
“Yeah, and you got her to get me the coffee? How did you do that?”
“I’m a Wek.”
I’m grinning at him, pondering that. He’s a Wek. He’s becoming clearer to me, falling into place like the blocks that built the mayor’s downtown.
“So where do Weks live when everyone else goes home?”
He looks at me for a long time before saying, “You’ll see where I’m from one day.”
“Okay,” I nod, accepting that answer. “Do Weks sleep?”
“No, I don’t sleep.”
I study his face. He looks so normal. His skin is made of flesh as far as I can tell. How can he not need to sleep or eat? My mind goes back to earlier today after we ate lunch when he called me a beautiful creation. Now I wonder, can Wek’s love?
“So you don’t eat, don’t sleep—what about the bathroom? Do you do that?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I mutter and step around her. That’s when she pushes me in the back, but this time I’m prepared. She shoved me hard, but I don’t budge. My feet are planted muscles contracted.
“Ouch,” she screams and cradles the wrist of the hand she did the pushing with.
Morgan Slater and some girl whose name I think is Debbie rush over to see to her needs. I narrow my eyes at Mr. Lux as I pass him.
It wasn’t my fault , I think, not sure if he hears me or not.
I know , I hear in return, and I stop in my tracks, shocked. He did hear me.
Morgan accompanied Riley to the nurse’s office and class went on as usual. Funny how light the air was without her there. I didn’t realize how much she tainted my peace of mind. I think my way would’ve worked a long time ago. She needed to realize that messing with me is detrimental to her health.
It’s three o’clock on the dot, and I knock on Mrs. Lowenstein’s door as summonsed.
“Come in,” she calls from behind wood and fiberglass, which has her name spelled out in black letters.
When I enter, she’s wearing a genuine smile and the smell of coffee slides up my nose. Mrs. Lowenstein takes a sip of coffee contained in a white cardboard cup.
“We have a Starbucks now.” She raises her eyebrows at me with delight and then motions towards another cup sitting on the desk where I’m to sit. “Would you like a hot macchiato?”
I’m grinning from ear to ear, wondering if Derek mentioned my “vice” to her and if so, why would she supply it for me?
Our meeting was brief. The condescending, smug smile was nonexistent. I learned that she hung new lime-colored curtains in her living room last weekend but afterwards realized they were too ugly and took them down. She’s also thinking about taking a job in Cleveland, Ohio but doesn’t want to leave Moonridge because she thinks it’s an enchanting place. However, she’s turning thirty-five in February, and it’s time to recognize that she’s actually divorced and it’s time to start over.
I must admit, I was stunned she revealed that to me. As a matter of fact, I said absolutely nothing the entire time. When she dismissed me, she said, “I’m sure I won’t have to see you in here anymore. It looks like Mr. Firth has been an excellent influence on you.”
I clamped my lips tightly together to keep from exploding with laughter because that’s when it occurred to me that Derek’s influence over the crazy meeting went beyond the macchiato. It was like he was allowing me to be privy to the sorts of conversations he has with people, where they pour out their souls to him.
When I get to the parking lot, I see a tall figure leaning against the driver’s side door of my jeep. When he senses me he turns to smirks at me. I sniff a chuckle and approach him.
“So do you have a headache?” he asks, still smirking.
I burst out into laughter. I can’t believe he did that. It’s the funniest thing that happened to me since…well, ever!
“No, I guess I don’t,” I admit. “But that was too weird.”
“Well, it wasn’t a mochaccino from Macchiato, but hey, it’s Starbucks.”
“Yeah, and you got her to get me the coffee? How did you do that?”
“I’m a Wek.”
I’m grinning at him, pondering that. He’s a Wek. He’s becoming clearer to me, falling into place like the blocks that built the mayor’s downtown.
“So where do Weks live when everyone else goes home?”
He looks at me for a long time before saying, “You’ll see where I’m from one day.”
“Okay,” I nod, accepting that answer. “Do Weks sleep?”
“No, I don’t sleep.”
I study his face. He looks so normal. His skin is made of flesh as far as I can tell. How can he not need to sleep or eat? My mind goes back to earlier today after we ate lunch when he called me a beautiful creation. Now I wonder, can Wek’s love?
“So you don’t eat, don’t sleep—what about the bathroom? Do you do that?”
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