These Starcrossed Lives of Ours Read Online Free PDF

“The house looks great, and dinner smells fantastic. Did you do all this for me?”
    I shut my gaping mouth and nodded, pushing the bangs out of my eyes.
    He looked around the bedroom. “You patched up things in here too. And my clothes,” he said, looking at a shirt I had forgotten to fold on the bed. “I didn’t know you could sew. How did you get it done so quickly?”
    I shrugged. He chuckled and said, “I appreciate it. You did a really good job. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
    I shook my head quickly and he held out his hand to help me up. I grabbed it out of instinct, still half asleep. Annabelle’s hand had always been soft, and out of proportion to my own. Ian’s hand was rough, and it fit over my own a little too well. When I found my feet I instantly recoiled my hand back, rubbing my palm where we had touched.
    If he had noticed my reaction he didn’t show it. We went to the kitchen and he began serving me dinner. At the sight of the casserole I became nauseous, even though I knew it was delicious and Ian was already planning on seconds. I had forgotten that this was the first meal Annabelle and I had ever shared, and had made it subconsciously. Now that I remembered it made me sick to look at. When she had left me, I stopped eating altogether and lost fifteen pounds.
    I shook my head, trying to snap out of it. I began shoveling the food in my mouth, forcing myself to overcome my nausea. The days of me being sick over Annabelle were done. I would no longer do that to myself.
    “Wow, you’re really hungry,” Ian said in approval. He grabbed another huge cut of the casserole and said, “Here! Have some more!”
     
    That night while watching TV I felt ill, but it was worth it. I was proud of myself for once in my life, and tried to keep my burps quiet as Ian rattled on and on next to me.
    “There was this little girl who came to me today, and she told me that her family didn’t have enough to eat,” Ian said, and his eyes sparkled with tears as some movie played across the screen. “I helped her sign up for a special program the school runs for free lunches, and gave her a couple pamphlets for food banks her family could go to. It’s really sad that these kids have to go through this.”
    The story touched me, but it didn’t melt my icy exterior. I had heard the same thing in the place I grew up and had experienced a similar nightmare myself. This might be America, and I might have been born in preppy, rich Ann Arbor, but not everybody had food to eat or a roof to sleep under. There were people I knew who made my life look like the one of a pampered princess. They had nowhere to go, no one to love, and no way to survive.
    Which of course is where the cult comes in. Annabelle, and all the others, feed on those types of people.
    “You know, a lot of my relatives hate that I’m a social worker. Annoyed I’m the bleeding heart sort of deal,” he said, gesturing to the air as if they were right there. “But I’m glad that I did it. I mean, I’m doing something that makes a difference. I don’t get paid a lot of money or anything, but I’m working with kids to help give them better lives, and it rocks. I love helping people.”
    There was no big surprise. I changed the channel and found a chick flick, settling on it for the night. Ian made no move to change it. I sighed. This poor kid was gonna run himself down. He didn’t realize that if you took care of people too much they used you in the end. Too bad he would have to find that out for himself.
    “It’s great. I’m glad I found something I like doing for a job.” He beamed. “Did you have a job you liked, Christie?”
    I paused. I had never really thought about having a career. Once Annabelle had brought me into her circle I figured I wouldn’t make it past twenty. Now that I was away from the cult my chances of survival were much greater than before. I was nineteen and I had absolutely no direction, no idea where I was going or what I