American library books » Romance » Full Moon by Elaina H (short novels in english txt) 📕

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go to my locker and grab my books.

I don’t have cheer practice today, but they always make us wear our uniforms on Mondays. After my books are shoved into my backpack, I step into the parking lot searching for Anna’s car.

After five minutes of searching I find that her car is not here, “She wouldn’t,” I snarl.

It’s the hottest part of the day, how in the world is she going to make me walk!

We are a seven minute drive from home, and a twenty minute walk!

I pull my phone out of my purse, and call Mom. The message goes to voice mail, and I try again and again until I’ve called nine times.

On the tenth try, she picks up. “For goodness sake, Gwen! What?! You’ll be home in two minutes, why can’t it wait?!” she’s mad, and I can hear it in her voice.

“I’m at school!” I throw my one free arm into the air, and continue. “Will you come pick me up?”

“Well, I’m leaving to get a manicure with Caroline. It’ll have to wait!” Mom almost hangs up.

“No! Anna left me here without a ride, what am I supposed to do?” I kick some rocks across the parking lot.

“Walk. Your sister already called me this morning and told me what you did! How could you push your sister?! Walking is exactly what you’ll do this week! Walk! Walk! Walk!” Mom started yelling a bunch of nonsense, so I pulled the phone away from me ear.

When I put I back on she was still talking, “You are being a disgrace! I am very disappointed in you, Gwen,” she sighed like she had the most troubled kids.

“Mom, I have to walk?!” I slammed my foot down, “It is the hottest part of the year, and you want me to die of heat stroke?”

“I got to go! By honey, kisses!” she hung up the phone.

“What, princess, throwing a tantrum?” Finn was behind me on his motorcycle, the shield of his helmet pulled up, revealing his eyes.

“Shut up, I am, so, not it the mood for this right now, dipstick,” I cross my arms over my chest and start walking toward home.

He rides his bike along side of me, “Want a ride,” I raise my eyebrow and laugh.

“On that death trap?! I don’t think so, I’d probably fall off and break my neck or crack a rib!” I keep walking.

“I wouldn’t let you fall,” he says. But before I turn to make another comment he’s riding off at top speed.

I grimace at the twenty minute walk ahead.

 

When I make it to my sidewalk, I trudge to the door and try to open it. Locked.

I scream, and go around to the back, also locked,

Windows, locked. I take my backpack off and fall down on my back to the grass.

I stare up at out home. The pale brick and the beautiful siding makes look exactly the same as everyone else on the block. A small balcony sits centered at the front of the house on the second story.

The only thing that sets our house apart from the rest is the large wrap around porch Dad had to have. He told Mom when we were house hunting that there was no way she was talking him out of a wrap around porch. Therefore, we have one.

My and my sister’s rooms are upstairs, and my parent’s master bedroom is downstairs. I have the best room of the three because I have a balcony.

There’s a story to that, when we bought this house I was in seventh grade. I’d been going to this school, but we’d just moved across town.

In seventh grade we were learning Greek Mythology and I was obsessed with the three gods Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. I thought it was so interesting how they did a coin toss to see who got which kingdom.

Anyway, I, somehow, got my sisters to agree, and I won the coin toss; resulting in the balcony bedroom. Alice got the next best room which was directly connected to the bathroom. And Anna received the worst of the three, which was the biggest room; which really isn’t that bad.

On my little balcony that I had won fair and square, I set a table and chairs along with a welcome mat.

I used to play up there for hours. I remember clearly bringing my dolls out, and eating ‘dinner’ when I was mad at Mom and Dad.

Eventually, Dad would come up and participate in my tea party, and he was instantly forgiven.

One time, Dad had come up and eaten hotdogs with me, I left my nicest doll outside, and, my luck, it rained; ruining the doll forever.

I’m not sure why that memory is always the first to come to mind. I do know that was the last time I ever played out on the little white balcony. Sometimes I wish I could go back when it all seemed so easy. When he didn’t even talk to me.

After a few more moments of relaxing on the grass with my eyes closed, I push myself up and wipe the dirt and grass from the back of my pants.

A cool breeze starts to blow, but it only brings hot, muggy air.

Walking up to the door, I try the handle once more. The door opens, and I figure Alice must have finally opened it, since Anna would never help me out.

I pick up the large pitcher of home made lemonade that Mom must have made just this morning; otherwise I would have drunk it by now. The ice in the glass jingles as I push it aside to lay out my homework..

I fly through my Spanish, English, and Trig H. But I make slow progress on my Physics paper. Besides, who writes a paper in physics anyways?

In physics class today I couldn’t even pay attention to what Mr. Reynolds was saying because Jordan kept distracting me, all class period, with his comments about Mr. Reynolds hair, nose, glasses, shoes, suit, you name it.

My efforts to finish my physics paper failed when my head rested on the cool countertop. I pulled the pony tail out of my hair to relieve the stress and tension by massaging my scalp.

Upstairs I hear a radio turn on, and Anna screaming that it was hot in this house.

It takes me awhile, but finally I get the motivation to move myself away from the cool counter. I tiredly bring each foot up to the next step and so on. Once I turn down the hall to the bathroom, I walk in and shut the door behind me; locking it.

Even though I start the shower, I can still hear Alice talking to someone.

I rest my ear against the door, and listen to Alice talk. Technically, this is something I’m not supposed to be doing, but I’m still a little angry that I was locked out of the house and it wouldn’t hurt to have something over Alice’s head. I cross my fingers she talking to the mangy sophomore from the lunch table.

“Yea, I’ll see you tonight. Just park out front and be quiet,” she warns. “No remember, I have to be home by 1:30 am because that’s when my dad usually gets up to get a glass of water.”

“Duh, of course, he checks on us! Why would I tell you that if he didn’t?” Alice laughs and I grin.

“Busted,” I whisper into the steamy air.

Still smiling from my great feat, I undress, and step into the shower. The hot water rushes down on me and I wash my hair.

It’s gotten long, my hair, and it goes down to the center of my back. My hair is not straight, but wavy and poufy.

But, of course, the waves also come with frizz.

The cold water rushes over my and sends all the dirt and sweat down the drain. As usual, my thoughts go to the events that occurred over the summer. My stomach knots up, and I try to take deep soothing breaths. Unfortunately, the deep breaths don’t help much, and I feel the panic crawl up into my chest.

The sense of dread makes me sick, and the thoughts of him make me sicker.

After I get worked up, I can’t settle down. The shower water turns colder, and I finally shut it off.

I feel I’ve made some progress since tears didn’t fall this time. But is it really progress if I can’t think of him withoutgoing into a full blown panic attack?

I step out of the shower and dry off, heading to my room, I hear the phone downstairs ring downstairs, and I run to the kitchen still wrapped in a ratty towel.

The phone is on its last ring as I yank it off the receiver and answer it, “Hello, the Greene residents,” is say thinking it’s one of Mom’s gossiping friends.

“Hello, Greene residents.” Jordan says into the receiver.

I furrow my eyebrows, “Why didn’t you call my cell?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up, so I figured you were at home still, and that you’d hear this!” his excitement has me questioning him, and it’s hard to get excited with him after what just happened to my nerves in the shower.

“What’d you need?” I say after a moment and a deep breath.

“Get ready, I’ll be there in seven minutes exactly! We are going to have so much fun! Woooo-hoooooo!” he cries into the phone before slamming it down and hanging up.

“Seven minutes?” I murmur as I race upstairs, not really in the mood to go out on the town with Jordan. But at least I know if anyone is going to cheer me up it will be Jordan.

I walk into my walk-in closet and stare at the racks of clothes for a good four minutes before I decide on the jean shorts with my fitted lavender T-shirt. I slip on a pair of black flip flops and jump into the chair behind my vanity.

Running a brush through my hair takes forever and I start to blow it dry. Outside, a car horn is honked, and I look at the alarm clock next to my bed realizing that the seven minutes has already passed.

I curse under my breath and take off into the hallway with wavy hair and no makeup. “I’ll see you guys later! Tell Mom and Dad to call me when they get home.”

I tell Alice this again to her face because I know, or at least I hope, she will remind Mom and Dad.

Quickly, I race down the steps taking two at a time, and grab a water bottle from the fridgerator before running out to Jordan’s brand new, shiny, black Corvette.

When I step back into the heat, I almost run back in. “Come on!” Jordan revs the engine as he shouts at me from the rolled down tinted window.

“Yea! Yea!” I call back. “Shut your mouth, Jordan!” I jump down off the curb, and race around to the other side of the car. I yank open the car door and instantly smell the fresh pine air freshener Jordan placed in here last week. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise!” Jordan wiggles in his seat, and I swear he whispers under his breath that this is going to be awesome.

I swear Mom was right when she told me boys never grow up. Shortly after, she pointed at my dad playing with a remote control helicopter she had bought for my little cousin Ryan.

I wiggle my phone out of my back pocket, and put the seat belt on, since Jordan is notorious for his horrendous driving skills.

“Alright! Let’s go!” I demand. Jordan’s excitement is spilling over onto me.

Jordan drives for an hour, we listen to the radio and sing out loud.

”You should go to school like that,” he says out of the blue.

I’m surprised and confused, “Huh?”

“I mean, your hair and face natural like that. It makes you even more beautiful.” The silence that follows after is completely my fault.

“Thank you,” I say, but it’s too late and he knows it.

The rest of the drive is silence.

When

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