Read Online The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants by Ann Brashares - Free Book Online Page B

couldn't help letting a little of her own curiosity creep through her concern.
    â€œYes. In August. Her name is Lydia.”
    â€œLydia who?”
    â€œI don't even know.” Carmen cast herself upon the floral bedspread.
    Her mother sighed. “What are the kids like?”
    â€œI don't know. Blond. Quiet.”
    â€œHow old?”
    Carmen didn't feel like answering questions. She felt like getting babied and pitied. “Teenagers. The boy is older than me. I really don't know exactly.”
    â€œWell, he should have told you before you went down there.”
    Carmen could detect the edge of anger in her mother's voice. But she didn't want to deal with it right now.
    â€œIt's fine, Mom. He said he wanted to tell me in person. It's just . . . I don't even feel like being here anymore.”
    â€œOh, honey, you're disappointed not to have your daddy to yourself.”
    When it was put like that, Carmen couldn't find the appropriate space for her indignation.
    â€œIt's not that,” she wailed. “They're so . . .”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI don't like them.” Carmen's anger made her inarticulate.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI just don't. They don't like me either.”
    â€œHow can you tell?” her mom asked.
    â€œI just can,” Carmen said sullenly, loathing herself for being such a baby.
    â€œAre you mad at these strangers, or are you mad at your dad?”
    â€œI'm not mad at Dad,” Carmen said quickly without taking even a moment to consider it. It wasn't his fault he'd fallen for a woman with zombies for children and a guest room straight out of a Holiday Inn.
    She said good-bye to her mother and promised to call the next day. Then she rolled over and cried for reasons she didn't quite understand.
    Some sane part of her brain told her she should feel happy for her dad. He'd met a woman he loved enough to marry. He had this whole life now. It was obviously what he wanted. She knew she should want for him what he wanted for himself.
    But still she hated them. And so she hated herself for hating them.
    Slowly Bridget waded into the warm water. A thousand triggerfish darted around her ankles.
    â€œI want Eric,” she told Diana, who was on team four. “Will you trade places with me?” It wasn't the first time she'd proposed this.
    Diana laughed at her. “Do you think they'd notice?”
    â€œHe's leading a run at five,” Emily said.
    Bridget looked at her watch. “Shit, that's in five minutes.”
    â€œYou're not seriously going to go,” Diana said.
    Bridget was already out of the water. “Yeah, I am.”
    â€œIt's six miles,” Emily said.
    The truth was Bridget hadn't run even one mile in over two months. “Where are they meeting up?”
    â€œBy the equipment shed,” Emily said, wading deeper into the water.
    â€œSee you all,” Bridget called over her shoulder.
    In the cabin, she yanked on a pair of shorts over her bikini bottoms and traded her top for a sports bra. She pulled on socks and her running shoes. It was too hot to worry about whether running in just the bra was acceptable.
    The group had already started off. Bridget had to chase them down a dirt path. She should have taken a minute to stretch.
    There were about fifteen of them. Bridget hung back for the first mile or so until she found her stride. Her legs were long, and she carried no extra weight. It made her a naturally good runner, even when she was out of practice.
    She pulled up with the middle of the pack. Eric noticed her. She pulled up closer to him. “Hi. I'm Bridget,” she said.
    â€œBridget?” He let her catch up with him.
    â€œMost people call me Bee, though.”
    â€œBee? As in bumble?”
    She nodded and smiled.
    â€œI'm Eric,” he offered.
    â€œI know,” she said.
    He turned to face the group. “We're doing seven-minute miles today. I'm assuming we have serious runners in this group. If