Read Online Unbreakable Rules (Too Many Rules Book 3) by G.L. Snodgrass - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: G.L. Snodgrass
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we were having steaks for dinner, saying that we may as well eat the good stuff before it all spoiled. He and Mark had gone out to the deck to start the coals for the grill.
"Can I ask you something," Amanda said with a worried look.
"Sure," I answered.
"Um ... What does Mark look like?"
Wow, where did that come from? I glanced at her. Pink face, quickly turning even redder. Clasped hands, and terrified expression. She was scared. I didn't know if it was because of what I might say or because of what I might think. Interesting.
"It's just that I've known him my whole life," she continued. "I don't really have a reference point, you know? Mom and Ryan I know. I've felt their faces. I can imagine what they look like. But, Mark, I've never felt his face."
"Why don't you ask him? I'm sure he'd be okay with it."
"No. No way." Her face had turned even redder. "Never mind. Don't worry about it. It's not a big deal."
I looked at the young girl and realized she was petrified I would say something to Mark. What must it be like to go through life without being able to use your own eyes? Having to rely on others for basic information.
I decided to ignore her last statement, that it wasn't a big deal, and looked into the back yard. It was strange. I'd known Mark since second grade, but couldn't really have described him. Both he and Ryan had always just been there, on the outside. Not really part of my world
"Well. He's about average height, not tall like your brother, but average. Four or five inches taller than you." Amanda's eyebrows rose in curiosity, her eyes begging for more information. Boy, she had it bad.
"Let's see," I continued. "He has brown hair, medium dark. A little too long, he needs a haircut. Just like your brother does."
Amanda nodded her head in understandings.
"He's thick, not fat, but the solid type." I continued. "Um, his nose is straight, not too long, but distinguished sort of. His eyes are brown, soft, but with an intelligent look. He's a little pale, not pasty, but he could use some more time out in the sun."
"Is he good looking?" she asked with a hopeful sound to her voice.
What should I say? This was Mark Johnson we were talking about. There wasn't a girl in my school who would have called him good looking. I could see that it was important to Amanda though. "I guess, sort of. In a geeky kind of way." Amanda seemed to relax.
"Like your brother, he could use a change of wardrobe."
"What's wrong with Ryan's clothes?" she asked defensively.
Now I had stepped into it. I sighed to myself internally, then realized that maybe I could use Amanda in my quest to improve Ryan's social standing. "Your brother dresses as if he doesn't care what people think about him."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Everything. If you want to get in with the right groups. To be accepted, you need to dress like you belong."
"Ryan and Mark don't belong?” Amanda asked. “Aren't part of the 'Good Group'? I know they've got a ton of friends. People are always coming over to talk to Ryan. Are you saying because they don't belong to the right group they are worthless as people? That they are less than successful in life?" Her brow had narrowed in genuine confusion.
My stomach turned over when I thought about what I had just said. Was I really that shallow?
"No, of course not," I answered quickly. "It is just that high school is so different. Everybody is so judgmental. You don't know what it's like being judged all the time. Everything you wear, everything you say."
Amanda snorted, bringing her hand to her mouth to try and hide her smile.
"You're joking, right? You don't think I know what it is like to be judged? To know that everyone is waiting for you to fail, to trip over your own two feet. To be denied the chance to try new things because you might hurt yourself or others. To always be thought of as ‘Blind’ Amanda, never ‘pretty’ Amanda, never ‘smart’ Amanda, never ‘just’ Amanda.”
I gulped. Boy, when
"Can I ask you something," Amanda said with a worried look.
"Sure," I answered.
"Um ... What does Mark look like?"
Wow, where did that come from? I glanced at her. Pink face, quickly turning even redder. Clasped hands, and terrified expression. She was scared. I didn't know if it was because of what I might say or because of what I might think. Interesting.
"It's just that I've known him my whole life," she continued. "I don't really have a reference point, you know? Mom and Ryan I know. I've felt their faces. I can imagine what they look like. But, Mark, I've never felt his face."
"Why don't you ask him? I'm sure he'd be okay with it."
"No. No way." Her face had turned even redder. "Never mind. Don't worry about it. It's not a big deal."
I looked at the young girl and realized she was petrified I would say something to Mark. What must it be like to go through life without being able to use your own eyes? Having to rely on others for basic information.
I decided to ignore her last statement, that it wasn't a big deal, and looked into the back yard. It was strange. I'd known Mark since second grade, but couldn't really have described him. Both he and Ryan had always just been there, on the outside. Not really part of my world
"Well. He's about average height, not tall like your brother, but average. Four or five inches taller than you." Amanda's eyebrows rose in curiosity, her eyes begging for more information. Boy, she had it bad.
"Let's see," I continued. "He has brown hair, medium dark. A little too long, he needs a haircut. Just like your brother does."
Amanda nodded her head in understandings.
"He's thick, not fat, but the solid type." I continued. "Um, his nose is straight, not too long, but distinguished sort of. His eyes are brown, soft, but with an intelligent look. He's a little pale, not pasty, but he could use some more time out in the sun."
"Is he good looking?" she asked with a hopeful sound to her voice.
What should I say? This was Mark Johnson we were talking about. There wasn't a girl in my school who would have called him good looking. I could see that it was important to Amanda though. "I guess, sort of. In a geeky kind of way." Amanda seemed to relax.
"Like your brother, he could use a change of wardrobe."
"What's wrong with Ryan's clothes?" she asked defensively.
Now I had stepped into it. I sighed to myself internally, then realized that maybe I could use Amanda in my quest to improve Ryan's social standing. "Your brother dresses as if he doesn't care what people think about him."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Everything. If you want to get in with the right groups. To be accepted, you need to dress like you belong."
"Ryan and Mark don't belong?” Amanda asked. “Aren't part of the 'Good Group'? I know they've got a ton of friends. People are always coming over to talk to Ryan. Are you saying because they don't belong to the right group they are worthless as people? That they are less than successful in life?" Her brow had narrowed in genuine confusion.
My stomach turned over when I thought about what I had just said. Was I really that shallow?
"No, of course not," I answered quickly. "It is just that high school is so different. Everybody is so judgmental. You don't know what it's like being judged all the time. Everything you wear, everything you say."
Amanda snorted, bringing her hand to her mouth to try and hide her smile.
"You're joking, right? You don't think I know what it is like to be judged? To know that everyone is waiting for you to fail, to trip over your own two feet. To be denied the chance to try new things because you might hurt yourself or others. To always be thought of as ‘Blind’ Amanda, never ‘pretty’ Amanda, never ‘smart’ Amanda, never ‘just’ Amanda.”
I gulped. Boy, when
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