The Right and the Real Read Online Free PDF

likely, she was the person who scored his drugs.
    Dad would never do this to me. It had to be Mira’s idea. At first, I’d thought she was nice. Her big, doe eyes seemed kind, and hervoice was soft. For their first date, she’d insisted on including me and had cooked dinner for us at our house. She’d set the table with beeswax candles, the real silver we’d inherited from my grandmother, and cloth napkins.
    I had actually been happy for Dad because he’d stopped planting himself in front of the TV every night. Or relying on me for entertainment. For years, I’d read aloud to Dad from plays, which was fun for both of us, and I think helped me to become a better actress. But it was also exhausting after a long day of school and rehearsal. With Mira, he had a distraction, and I’d been grateful.
    Gradually, I’d seen a change in her, though. Slowly, but methodically, she started taking over our lives. First it was ironing my dad’s shirts. Then doing the grocery shopping. Those things weren’t so bad, but then I noticed some of our favorite knickknacks, like the Mickey Mouse clock we’d bought at Disneyland and the Winnie-the-Pooh lamp we’d gotten on a trip to England, had disappeared.
    In their places were religious statues. And one of them had a little plastic figure on the cross, but I swear it had the Teacher’s beaky nose and didn’t look anything like how you might expect Jesus to. I tried to reassure myself it was a coincidence, but honestly, it kind of freaked me out.
    On Sundays Dad gave Mira a ride to church “because a lady doesn’t drive herself when she has a man in her life.” And she expected him to go to Wednesday Night Fellowship and to chaperone the Friday Mixers too, wearing the new, dark suit she’d bought him. When I complained he spent too much time with her, he said, “You’re growing up, James. It feels good to have someone to take care of again.”
    “I thought your therapist warned you about giving up your life for someone else,” I reminded him.
    He ruffled my hair, a new habit since I’d had it cut short, and added, “Don’t worry. It’s not like when I was with your mom. I’m not trying to fix Mira. She’s perfect the way she is.”
    I wasn’t dumb enough to believe she was really perfect, but it was such a relief to see a smile on his face, I’d ignored my gut feelings, and now I was homeless. As I stood there, sucking my cut finger, I got the uncomfortable feeling I was being watched. The front curtains were drawn, but maybe Mira was peeking through, trying to see how I reacted. I cringed at the thought of her hands touching my stuff. But Dad had clearly written the note himself. Maybe he really had packed it all.
    I grabbed the box on top and lugged it down the driveway. Fueled by anger, I dragged the rest of the boxes to the Beast and loaded them into the back in record time. Once I was behind the wheel again, though, the hurt of Dad’s betrayal rushed through me. I knew how susceptible he was to persuasion, and I knew he’d been brainwashed, but it still just about killed me to think he could kick me out.
    I needed to talk this over with someone, and if there was anyone who could give me some advice about the Right & the Real, it would be Josh. I hit number four on my speed dial, but it went straight to voice mail.
    This is Josh—leave a message.
    “Ummm…hi. It’s me,” I said. “Missed you at school today. Hope you’re not sick or anything. Could you give me a call? Okay…well…bye.”
    There was only one place to go, Krista’s. But halfway there, I fell apart. My whole body trembled in my seat, and for the first time, I understood what it meant to cry so hard you felt like you might throwup. I gulped for air, my hands holding tight to the steering wheel, while I looked desperately for a place to pull over.
    Even though I could barely drive, there was this tiny voice inside telling me, “You can use this experience in your acting.” That happens a