The Secret Sister by M. DeLuca (classic novels for teens txt) 📕

right, almost hitting the guy in the next lane. I tried to collect myself. Grasp the wheel tight with both hands.

I’d seen that signature before.

The night I almost killed myself on the bridge I kicked the gray-haired guy in the crotch before I ran away. I didn’t like the way his manicured body invaded my space, hated the clammy pressure of his fingers on my wrist.

He yelped, doubled over clutching himself as I ran past the dark stores and cafes, to the mall – the only place I could think of. Maybe Birdie would be there. She’d take pity on me. Let me sleep on a couch somewhere. Even the floor of some motel room would do, but then that sharp knife twisted in my heart again. She’d left me for Loni. She screwed the only guy I’d ever cared for. She despised me now. I’d seen the hatred burning in her eyes when she went off with Loni.

The stores were five minutes from closing, so I wandered around in a daze trying to figure out where I could go. Alone, unwanted, and scared, the world closed in on me and hope was a distant dream. I drifted towards the gamers’ store. There was no more rescue plan. Colby was my only hope.

I slept on the couch in Colby’s basement for two days until Birdie showed up with Loni. Supposedly to check up on me to see if I was okay, but I knew she just wanted to hit me up for food or money to buy drugs or even piss me off by making eyes at Colby. Her hands shook so badly I almost felt sorry for her. Especially when I could see she was freaking Colby out.

He didn’t know she’d told me about their little session. I figured I’d forgive him for it. But when his mom came back from her job at the hospital and found Birdie and Loni rooting through the fridge, she said she’d had enough and told me to go back to my social worker. Said she was really sorry but she couldn’t take on the cost of feeding all these extra mouths, or risk having junkies and troublemakers in the house when she had her grandchildren to look after three days a week. Birdie was long gone by that time, though I knew she’d be back when she was hungry or needed money. She’d never leave me alone.

I hoped Colby would stand up for me, plead my case with the same cool logic he’d used in all our literary arguments. But faced by his mother’s demands he became a tongue-tied kid. Not the enigmatic, shadow boy with the cool intellect and sexy whisper.

“Reid went ahead and rented his spare room out,” he said, a sheepish look on his face. “What will you do?”

I shrugged. “Maybe hook up with Birdie and the other kids at the Capri Motel. The workers there are so slack they won’t notice another body sleeping on the floor and it’s near the mall so I’ll have something to do after school.”

Of course I had no intention of going with Birdie as long as Loni and Duane and all her druggie loser friends were around. I had other plans of my own.

Colby touched my cheek and bent to kiss me. I turned away, my heart frozen. “I didn’t mean to do it with your sister,” he said, his eyes limpid with tears. “I wish I could take it back now.”

“Don’t matter anyway. Not like we were gonna get married or anything.”

“But I like you. You’re smart and interesting. Not like the others. There’s something special about you.”

Words come easy when you’re kicking out someone who has no place to go. You hope it softens the blow. Dulls the edge of the pain. But I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. I wanted to make him suffer. Stick in my own knife and twist the blade.

“You of all people coming up with a cliché like that,” I said, picking up my backpack, the only thing I’d taken from Lester and Patti’s place. I was done with garbage bags. “I really thought you were more of an original thinker. The truth is you’re totally derivative. You plagiarize your ideas from Google and pass them off as your own. The good news on the other hand – you were a great first lay.”

He stood at the door of his miserable turquoise painted bungalow looking utterly defeated and was still watching as I turned the corner. I thought I’d loved him.

Poor sucker.

I stuck my hand in my pocket and felt the comforting edges of his dad’s rare baseball card collection. Shit will hit the fan when he realizes they’re gone.

I reckoned I’d sell them for enough to keep me in food and clothes for a couple of months until I figured out how I’d survive.

And I would survive. I was sure of that.

30

Recent scientific studies have shown that identical twins aren’t as identical as we previously thought. And fraternal twins are often the total opposite of each other.

Like me and Birdie.

Birdie could be smart if she put her mind to it, but she didn’t use her brains like I did. She was way too trusting. When she was a kid, she’d knock herself out to make people laugh and be happy. Dancing, singing, playing tricks – a happy kid, always trying to spread joy. Later she changed. As a teen, she had the attention span of a two-year-old. She was edgy, impatient – a wrecking ball set to shatter the harmony of a moment. Always restless, searching for the next great thing to appear, to the point where she could barely enjoy the present.

Things became worse with the drugs.

She was also a sheep, preyed on by anyone that promised to lead her to that golden future. The paradise place where she’d finally settle and enjoy the now. I, on the other hand, was way more cautious. Weighing out every miniscule move I made and