Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Quick reflexes came in handy once in a while, like now, when I struck a hand out to stop the door from closing completely. “Not this time, Mara.” I handed her the succulents. “Today we talk.”
She looked at the plants as if they might jump up and bite her, and as far as I knew they could. “You think the least high maintenance plant around makes you deserving of a conversation? Think again, Sheriff.”
“How about this?” I held up the book, a worn copy of Pride & Prejudice, because Mara had once told me it was the first book she read that made her laugh out loud. She reached for the book, but I held it slightly out of reach. “Is that a yes?”
She blanked the look of longing on her face and took a step back. “I have ten different copies of that book, so no, it’s not a yes. It’s a no. A hard no.”
“Too bad.” I stepped into her house with my most charming smile. “We need to talk.”
“Actually, we don’t. But if you feel the need to talk then you can talk to yourself, because I have nothing to say.”
“Well that’s too damn bad, Mara, because we are going to talk. Right now.”
“Talk to your damn self,” she grumbled and turned away from me, making her way to the kitchen where she cranked up some rock music and pretended like I wasn’t there.
I turned off the music and removed the phone from the dock before turning it off completely. “I’ve dealt with more difficult interrogation subjects than you Mara, so let’s just do this the easy, civil way. Tell me what happened back then.”
She shook her head, her rosy cheeks turning an alarming shade of red. “What is the point of dredging up the past? It’s over and done with, so let’s just leave it where it belongs.”
“I can’t.” It didn’t make sense why, but suddenly I had a deep and burning desire to know the truth. “After we were taken into custody, my parents watched me like a hawk. They took my phone, my internet, they cancelled my credit cards and changed the security alarm system so I couldn’t leave without them knowing. Plus, the staff watched me around the clock. One day my mom forgot to set the alarm and I was finally able to break free. I came to see you and your mom,” I paused and stared at her carefully. “Your foster mother said you were gone and wouldn’t be back for a while.” Just thinking about that day, about the way my heart clenched like a fist had wrapped around it in a chokehold, made me feel emotional. I dropped down into one of her wooden kitchen chairs and sighed. “So, where did you go?”
“Where did I go?” She turned to me with a shocked look and shook her head. “Look Xander, I’m too tired for your revisionist history, so let’s just end this right here. You have your version of the truth and I have mine.”
“No, goddammit! I want to know what happened, Mara. I need to know, so just tell me where you went and why you left.”
“I already told you that I was in juvie, Xander. Because it turns out that someone has to take the fall when a car is stolen and drugs and alcohol are found inside with two underage kids. Since it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the rich kid with the important parents, the foster kid would have to do.”
“No.” I shook my head. That couldn’t be the truth. “My mother said they offered community service.”
She barked out a bitter laugh and shook her head. “They probably did, before your parents made sure all the blame was heaped onto me.” Her brown gaze took on a hazy, far away quality as she spoke. “They made it clear that you actually had a future, one that couldn’t be derailed by a criminal record or a poor kid using you to get ahead in life.” Her tone, all haughty and cool was exactly like my mother’s.
“You spoke to my mother?” We’d gone out of our way to avoid my parents and their clear prejudice against Mara for having the unfortunate luck of being born poor.
“I did. She came to Helen’s house with a check for ten grand, ‘for my troubles’ and the next day a detective showed up saying he was ready to take my statement, as if it was all some foregone conclusion.” She shook her head, emotions overwhelming her until she turned away from me. “I tried to call you, like twenty times and you didn’t answer.” A bitter laugh escaped. “I knew then that you and your folks were in lock step, so I waited a few days, sent the check back and went to the cops myself, told them it was my idea and you just came along for the ride. I spent two years in juvie and got out when I was seventeen.”