Brittany Bends Read Online Free PDF Page A

homework and he wanted to get home. He was the one who told me that the interview wouldn’t last more than fifteen minutes.
    I don’t have a watch, but I know the interview lasted longer than fifteen minutes.
    I reach the part of the parking lot where I last saw him, and the ugly rust-bucket car is nowhere in sight.
    My heart starts pounding hard again, and I’m shaking from the cold, and I’m not sure what to do. I don’t want to wander the parking lot, looking for him. I’ll freeze to death, I swear.
    And I don’t have a cell phone. Eric and Lise each have one that they pay for with their own money, and Mom and Dad have one each—not a smart phone, but a cheap no-frills version, because cell phones “can be expensive.”
    In fact, Crystal got me in trouble with Mom—the one and only time I’ve been in real trouble with Mom—because she (Crystal, not Mom) sent me and Tiff an iPhone and signed us up for some plan without our permission. Mom just about hit the roof.
    Mom sees cell phones, and she thinks about all the money flying out the door.
    As if the money was blowing around in this wind. I peer inside Subway, partly to see if Eric’s there, and partly to see if they have a pay phone. I do know Eric’s cell number. I learned that in self-defense, because when he’s doing something, he sometimes forgets what time it is.
    A horn honks behind me and I jump. My reaction is so violent, I wobble on my shoes (even though I’m not walking) and my right shoe topples, making my ankle bend in a way it’s not supposed to and scraping the side of my foot against the ground.
    I grab the restaurant door in front of me to keep from falling over. The glass feels like ice.
    And I thought my heart was pounding hard before. It’s just about ready to hammer its way out of my chest forever.
    “Hey!” That voice belongs to Eric. Then the horn honks again.
    I can see the ugly rust-bucket car reflected in the glass. Everyone inside Subway is looking at us.
    I lift my right foot and then set it down back on the sidewalk, properly, ignoring the brand-new ache in my ankle. I do test the stability of my foot first, and it seems like it’s working.
    I knew that mortals can hurt themselves doing the strangest things, but I hadn’t expected that a fall off my shoes would ache like that.
    I turn around slowly, keeping one hand out for balance.
    “Where were you?” I say, my voice trembling. I have never yelled at one of my Johnson siblings before, but I’m scared, I’m overwhelmed, I’m tired, and I’m really, really cold.
    “I went to get the car.” Eric leans over and pushes the passenger side door open. “I parked far away, like you wanted.”
    Normally, I would have blushed there—I just know it—because he did something I wanted him to and I yelled at him, but I think the cold broke my blushing mechanism.
    “Sorry,” I say and stagger to the car. My entire right leg aches, but I can put weight on my foot. That means it’s not broken.
    I learned that in August, when my little half sister Ingrid jumped out of a swing and landed wrong, breaking her leg. She just got out of her cast two weeks ago.
    I slide inside the passenger seat, and the smelly upholstery catches the dress. I hope it doesn’t rip. Lise would be so mad at me. But at least the car’s warm.
    I pull the door closed, put on the seatbelt, and then look at my ankle. The pantyhose is ripped, and there’s a big chalky mark on the side of the shoe. I hope it’ll rub off.
    There’s also a scrape on my ankle itself, and now that I’ve noticed it, it’s started to sting.
    “What took so long?” Eric asks. “Were there other people applying?”
    I frown at him. How would I know that?
    He raises his eyebrows. He expects me to answer that stupid question.
    “No one else was applying,” I say. “I got the job and we had to fill out—”
    “You what ?” Thank heavens we’re in the parking lot, because he swivels his whole body as he looks at me, which