Zip Read Online Free PDF

steps and fished the key out of her pocket.
    Michael’s house was nothing like Lyssa and her mom’s place back in Austin. The furniture here was sleek and modern, and Lyssa knew none of it had any stories to tell at all.
    The only place Michael’s creativity showed was in his love of technology. One or two paper-thin flat-screen monitors hung on every wall. As soon as Lyssa walked into the living room, a frothy wave covered the far wall and came crashing toward her. The sound of water roared in her ears and she jumped, biting back a scream. When she lived with her mom, Lyssa hadn’t owned a TV. Sometimes it was hard to remember that the pictures were just images on a screen. They looked so
real
.
    Slipping off her sneakers, she raced up the stairs. As soon as she was in her own room, she pulled off her wet clothes and changed into a fresh tank top and new pair of shorts. Her bedroom was the only place in Michael’s house that still felt a little like home. She’d programmed her giant computer screen to flash pictures of her old room: there was her painted garage-sale furniture and the flowery silk scarves she hung from her windows, fluttering in a breeze she couldn’t actually feel. There was even a mason jar full of sunflowers from their garden sitting on a nightstand.
    Usually the images calmed her, but today they just made her feel worse. She dug the wet, crumpled paper airplaneout of her jeans pocket and placed it on one of the plain white dressers she and Michael had picked out for her new bedroom. If what was written on the flyer was true—if her house back in Austin really
was
going to be destroyed—then the pictures would be all that she had left of her life Before.
    A door slammed open and closed downstairs.
    “Lyssa!” Michael yelled.
    The sound of his voice made goose bumps spread up and down her arms. With one last look at the blue flyer, Lyssa pushed her bedroom door open and stepped into the hallway.
    “I’m right here.”
    She ran her fingers over the ropy lengths of her braids, trying to keep herself from sticking her hair in her mouth. Michael appeared at the foot of the stairs. Water clung to his black-framed glasses and caused his T-shirt to stick to his skin.
    “How could you
do
that?” he burst out. His voice sounded more scared than angry, but Lyssa still wrapped her arms around her chest, wishing she could turn around and flee into her room. She forced herself to stand still.
    “You scared me, Lyssa.” Michael lowered his voice, shaking his head. “Do you know what could have happened to you?”
    “Wait,” Lyssa interrupted. She needed to explain. This was about her mom’s house—her
home
. “You don’t understand…”
    Michael didn’t let her finish.
    “I don’t want to hear it. You’re
never
allowed to go off on your own like that again. Do you understand that? Never.”
    All of the anger and frustration of the day bubbled up in Lyssa’s chest.
    “You can’t tell me what to do,” she fired back, before she had time to think about what she was saying.
    “Yes, I can,” Michael said. “Your mom left me in charge. It’s my job to make sure nothing happens to you—”
    “Nothing
happens
?” Lyssa shook her head, her wet hair leaking water onto her tank top. The bubble of anger inside her grew so big that she thought she might pop. “You’re making me go to school! You’re forcing me to wear shoes—my mom wouldn’t have
wanted
those things to happen to me.”
    Lyssa paused, surprised by her own outburst. She’d been excited about going to school—and the shoes weren’t really that bad. But she knew that she couldn’t take her words back. She stuck the ends of her braid in her mouth, forgetting that she was trying not to chew on her hair anymore.
    “
Those things
are for your own good,” Michael said.
    “You don’t know what’s good for me,” Lyssa said. The cat that was really her grandmother popped into her mind, and the next few words burst out of her