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My mother nodded in agreement, her head bobbing up and down like the little bobble-head dogs you see on the dashboard of cars. Maybe they should get a job, Megan. Did you ever think of that? It was the first time, but not the last, that his voice was filled with irritation when he spoke to me. While she is beautiful, with long, flowing platinum hair, pale blue eyes, and smooth, flawless skin, the saying beauty is only skin deep definitely applies to her. I have always felt like an imposter in my own life, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst my friends and family.
All anybody sees when they look at me is an eighteen-year-old girl, wearing designer clothes and driving a shiny red convertible. But that is far from the truth. Did that even count? Sometimes my life felt so foreign, I expected to wake one morning to my true family. Go downstairs, have a real conversation with my parents, eating cereal and arguing with my siblings. My father would actually look up at me from behind his newspaper and smile as I stole a piece of his slightly burnt toast that my mother had made for him. Megan, are you coming? I was staring at myself in the mirror, brushing my hair, letting my mind wander, and I forgot she was waiting for me.
I stood up to grab my purse off of my bed. I turned once more to the mirror, and, satisfied that none of the lettuce from dinner was stuck in my teeth, I ran out of my room to catch up with Mandy.
As I bounded down the large, sweeping staircase, Mandy, who was ahead of me, slipped out the door and into the night. I glanced over to see my mother heading toward me in her shiny, silver, spiked heels, wearing a skin-tight red designer dress. God knows why she had to look as though she were a fashion model just sitting around her own house. But there was no point in trying to figure out why she did anything.
I gave up a long time ago. Where are you going, Megan? Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, shrill and annoying. I wanted to say like you care, but even after all these years of my parents abandoning me for their charity events, spa trips, and eighty-hour work weeks, I still hoped one day we could be a close family like we were when I was little.
I stopped in my tracks, whirling around to confront her.
Finding Abigail (Shimmer Lake Book 2) - Kindle edition by Christina Smith. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets. Finding Abigail, book. Read 16 reviews from the world's largest community for readers. This book was previously published as the second part of Finding A.
The overwhelming smell of her perfume struck me as much as her beauty. I watched as her soft blue eyes narrowed and glared at me, waiting for me to answer the question. She had her hand on the stair railing, her perfectly manicured nails tapping the top impatiently. The sound reminded me of a drum beat. Without waiting for an answer, I turned, descending the rest of the stairs, and rushed out the door. I heard her yell something about not giving me permission, but I left anyway. Since when was she so concerned about me? So, where to? I asked Mandy, who was waiting patiently, playing with the car stereo.
Since there was a chill in the air at night, the top was up. The football field. Brandon, Chris, Shane, and the rest of the team are meeting us there, but we have to pick up Jenny, her car is in the shop. I laughed. She was a little shallow, self-centered…and annoying.
I asked myself often why she was my friend. Mandy asked me. Her hand was resting on the door handle, about to open it.
Do you want to wait or hang out with the guys? I rolled my eyes at that. She was the kind of person who would take her time because we were waiting.
We heard crying from upstairs and looked up to see a. This is a young adult title with some language, violence, and mild sexual situations recommended for ages sixteen and up. Nona Fernandez, Trans. Horror can hit you in the gut or mess with your head, but at its best it can reach into your heart as well. Positive Publishers Weekly Smith What followed for her was a year of magical thinking, an attempt to change the narrative by an act of will Phil Stong tale on adultery and squabbling over who gets the farm.
Twenty minutes later Jenny strolled out of her house. The outside was a salmon-colored stucco. The gardens were beautifully done but overshadowed by dozens of tacky sculptures. The worst was the cherub holding a bow and arrow. It stood in the centre of their fake pond, peeing.
Classy, I know. She shoved Mandy a bit harder than necessary when she pushed the front seat forward.
Oh, of course not. She fluffed her shoulder-length blond hair and scrunched up her lips, adoring her reflection in the mirror. Yeah, right, I mumbled but decided to let it go. Mandy gave me a pleading look, begging me not to pick a fight with Jenny tonight.
I nodded at her and pulled out of the driveway. Mandy turned in her seat to face Jenny. The football field with the guys. I told you already when I called you to say we were on our way. Oh, right, I forgot. I got into it with my dad again. He was going on and on tonight at dinner about being responsible if I want to have a car, this was my third accident, blah, blah, blah.
I tuned him out after that. I rolled my eyes. How can he expect you to take responsibility for your own actions? Apparently, sarcasm was lost on her.
I opened my mouth to tell her off, but a look from Mandy silenced me. God, it was obnoxious, but then again, so was Shane. No wonder he and Jenny were a couple; they were perfect for each other. I tossed my purse in the front seat of the car, locked the doors, and followed my friends through the back of the school to the field. Shane sauntered up to Jenny, wrapping his arm possessively around her.