A Little Crushed Read Online Free PDF

thing, unless he is secret Mafia, of course. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
    “That car says it all,” Rebecca snapped. “You’re pathetic. I’m going, and don’t bother calling me.”
    An hour on, Rebecca’s pique had dissolved into an all-too familiar cloud of depression. She hated fighting with Emma, but lately she couldn’t seem to control her temper. Rubbing at the increasing throb at her temples, she fixed her face into the well rehearsed , hey I’m okay, folks smile and walked into the kitchen.
    Her father, for once home early, sat at the island, probably doing Jack’s maths homework, while her mother stood at the new, state-of-the-art range, creating, Rebecca hoped, a reasonably edible dinner. What her mum lacked in culinary talent, she more than made up for in enthusiasm.
    Avoiding her father’s probing stare, Rebecca feigned casual and opened the fridge.
    “Good day at school?”
    Cursing her sister’s penchant for spiteful gossip, Rebecca closed her eyes and counted to ten. One...two… “Okay, here’s what happened—although I am sure Vicky spared you no details.” Fixing her gloating sibling with her best ‘manic inmate’ stare, she lobbed the juice cartoon at her sister’s freshly straightened locks.
     Vicky’s shriek sent Wally running for cover. “Oops, silly me. I thought it was empty.”
     With rivulets of orange juice running down her face, Vicky leaped from her chair and ran from the room.
     “Oh, Rebecca.”
     Her mother’s pained sigh set Rebecca’s frustration close to danger level. She’d much prefer it if her parents raged at her.
     “So let’s have it.” Arms folded behind his head, her father leaned back, Jack’s homework forgotten.
     “What?” Swiveling a chair around, Rebecca mounted it, cowboy saloon style. She knew her lack of femininity annoyed her mum. She dragged the bowl of cake mix across the oak refectory table and stuck in her finger. More disapproving glares. “Don’t you trust Vicky’s mole? I am sure David Keeley took great pleasure in recanting my demise to his snot-nosed bitch of a sister. I don’t know why you let Vicky hang around with her, Dad. She’s a total retard. You know she shop-lifts—”
     “Don’t change the subject.” Reaching over, her father caught her hand. “Tell me what happened. If this teacher is giving you a hard time, I want to know about it. I will sort it. You don’t need the str—”
     “Oh, for goodness sake.” Rebecca jumped up, unwelcome tears welling in her eyes. “Why don’t you all get it? I don’t need this constant mollycoddling and pussy footing around me. I don’t need you to fight my battles. I never did. Why does everything have to be different all because of the ‘accident’?” She hooked her fingers in mock quotations. “I am so tired of the ‘accident.’ I got over it. Why can’t you?” Stooping to grab her bag from the floor where she’d dumped it, she whistled for Wally and stormed from the room.
     Upstairs, Rebecca threw her bag on the floor and collapsed onto the bed. Wally landed on her stomach with a thump.
     “You’d bite Mr. Jackson if you met him, wouldn’t you?” She fondled his silky ears. “You’d rip him to shreds.”
     Wally regarded his mistress with sad, drooping eyes. They both knew the only thing he’d ever bitten with any measure of success was his own tail.
     “Ah well…” Rebecca clasped her hands behind her head and continued the conversation with her captive audience. “What an interesting start to the term. I’ve managed to alienate the new teacher, piss off mum and dad, and fall out with Emma.”
     As if on cue, her mobile went off. Wally broke into a Hound of the Baskerville howl and covered his ears with his paws. How he hated that sound. Rebecca didn’t blame him. Jack had sneakily taken her phone and programmed in a ringtone of some hip-hop garbage. The problem was Rebecca wasn’t techno savvy enough to know how to fix it. She