A Quarrel Called: Stewards Of The Plane Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

shrugged. “I doubt they will ever get bored of video
games, but who knows? Good idea to have a backup. I've never used one.”
    “Me either,” I said, my hand sliding over the top of the
box. “My Aunt gave it to me one year for Christmas. She said she had one
growing up, and it was fun for slumber parties. But I pretty much forgot about
it until tonight when I saw it in the closet. I've never even opened the box.”
    “Cool. Let's stop by the store. Sam said he could get me a
discount on a party tray. Should we get anything else besides
that and soda?”
    “Probably extra crackers and chips and
stuff. I brought ten bucks so I could chip in.” I pulled the worn ten
dollar bill out of my wallet and flipped it to her, as if money were nothing and I was made of the stuff, all
nonchalant-like. I really needed a
job.
    Melody took the bill and stuffed it into her pocket and
grinned. “Thanks! That will help.” She pulled into the parking space and shut
off the car. “Are you nervous?”
    “What, me? Pshaw. You think I dress
like this every day?”
    “I know you don't. But you look great.” She grinned again.
“Can you can help me with my hair?”
    “Of course. As
long as you have lots of hairspray.” Melody's hair was famously
straight, and she was always trying to do something nonstraight with it. “Who are you dressing up for?”
    “No one in particular. But it can't
hurt. Sam is bringing Colton and Tyler with him.”
    “I feel ya , Ophelia.”
    Sam, Sam, Sam. Don't
you know better than to invite cute friends to your not-so-secret-crush's
party?

 

07 G.
    There were a couple of cars parked in front of the house,
the evening sun glinting off of windshields and custom wheels. I parked behind
them and let the engine idle for a second or two before turning it off. Meeting
new people was never really my thing, so I was totally out of my comfort zone.
Melody said on the phone that Tara was going to be there and was already
picking her brain about me, which just pushed me over the edge of nervous and
into dread. My palms were sweaty and I hoped that the body spray I used after
the shower was enough to cover the faint smell of grease left over from The
Blossom.
    I knocked and waited for someone to answer. It seemed
awfully quiet for a party. Before long, an older lady with flowy gray hair and
a smile opened the door wide. “You must be Gideon,” she said, and pulled me in.
    My jaw dropped in surprise, “No, it's just G.--”
    “Melody and the others are in Matthew’s—I mean the
clubhouse, out back. Go on through.” She ignored my protest and shooed me down
the central hall of the house toward a screen door that opened into the
backyard. Just as I was about to push the door open, the lady reappeared and
put a glass of lemonade in my hand. “Don't be shy. They're a good bunch. And
please tell Melody to come in for a moment to say good night to her
grandfather.”
    The yard was nicely landscaped with some sort of smelly herb
garden thing on one end and a bunch of rose bushes on the other. There was
mismatched patio furniture, an old chiminea, and lots of great big pecan trees.
There was a small, square white building on the far end near the rose bushes
that had brightly lit windows and familiar noises emanating from it.
    “Aw, man, you totally had that!” someone yelled as I stepped
into the doorway. Just inside I could see a kitchen-style counter with snacks,
a table and chairs with the girls clustered around it, and a few guys perched
on a couple of old loveseats playing video games. A local Top-40 radio station
played in the background. I took a breath. No point in going gutless now.
    “Hey Melody,” I said as I approached the table. “You're
supposed to go in and say goodnight to your grandfather.”
    Melody turned. “Oh, hey G.! Everybody, this is G. G., this is Shelby, Tara you already know, Brittney,” she
paused to point toward the couch, “Tyler, Colton, Sam .”
    I don't think I spared more