LO AND BEHOLD, THE next morning you come on. It was all a false alarm. You are not pregnant. Your life is not over. You don't have to kill yourself. Halle-frickin-lujah, you've been given a second chance!
'You don't have to worry. I got my period,' you say as nonchalantly as possible as you sit down at the kitchen table and start pouring ProNutro into a bowl.
She's standing at the counter making sandwiches for Dad's lunch, a black cloud above her bowed head. She turns to look at you and, as you glance up to make eye contact, you see she's wearing her small pursed lips, the infamous sulking mouth. 'I'm very happy for you.' Cold, condescending, dripping sarcasm.
'Thanks.' A saccharin smile. Two can play this game.
'Your father and I have discussed it, and you are grounded till the end of the holidays.'
'No problem.' Nice and breezy. Water off a duck's back. You hadn't expected anything less. And it's not like you're going to allow their pathetic little punishment to cramp your style anyway. You've been unscrewing the curly burglar bars behind closed curtains in your bedroom for a while now, slipping out under the cover of darkness, hitching rides to clubs and house parties, then sneaking back into bed before sunrise. Piece of cake.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Umbilicus: An autobiographical novel
Ficción GeneralCharlotte van Katwijk guards herself like a secret. Kids are cruel, and she knows if they find out she's adopted, she'll be a bully's easy target. When they are fourteen, Charlotte's best friend's mom commits suicide. It triggers in Charlotte a se...
