Call of Death by Garcia R. J

Author:Garcia, R. J. [Garcia, R. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal, Mystery, Suspense, Young Adult, Fantasy
ISBN: 9781958673584
Amazon: B0CGTF26XD
Goodreads: 198133593
Publisher: Midnight Tide Publishing
Published: 2023-11-08T08:00:00+00:00

25

Summertime

(Hannah)

The evening sky had turned to a deep luminescent blue with white clouds scattered gently on the horizon. Palm trees lined in formation on the street as we drove by mini-mansions, soon pulling up to our large circular drive. Even though we were running out of water and the air wasn’t always safe to breathe, L.A. was undeniably beautiful. The driver opened the door, and I was home. My mom and brother greeted me on the parquet floor of the foyer. She announced, “I get you all summer,” and gave me a peck on the cheek.

“I get her too,” Collin whined, and we hugged good and long.

My mom’s large brown eyes fixed on me that evening. I was lost in the slow, sweet rhythm of her voice. Once, my dad picked up takeout, and my family assembled at the sprawling dining room table. The table and chairs were marble with leather seats. It was rare for us to all be together.

Even though my parents were now legally separated, they sometimes shared the house when I was home. My dad brought me chicken pad Thai from my favorite restaurant, but the place forgot to put Collin’s order in the bag, so Collin got dramatic and stormed off to his room to pout.

My mom accused my dad, “You did this on purpose. You’ve never cared about Collin like you should.”

Dad argued, “Jesus Christ! I don’t work at the goddamn restaurant.” He stood up and offered, “I’ll go back and complain. How’s that?”

Of course, my parents argued more, and my dad decided to go back to his place.

He kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll see you soon, Hannah banana,” and left.

After my mom brought a plate of food up to Collin, she joined me on the leather sofa. I told her I wanted to go on a date with someone new—not that I had even gone on a date with Rory. Combing my memory bank, I remembered Yuri. He was a Romanian orphan adopted by a retired pro-tennis player who lived nearby. He was a little older than me and kind of handsome. I had only met him a couple of times.

“Hmm, Yuri? Oh, yeah,” she said, considering it. “That would be perfect.”

Mom’s high heel sandals slapped the tile floor as she walked away, talking on her cell. I panicked: it was happening too fast.

She came back a few minutes later. “Yuri will come over Friday night and take you out on a date,” she said and smiled, pleased by her own efficiency.

I wanted to cancel. I wanted to go. “Mom, don’t you even like Rory?” I asked. In some way, I felt like I was being unfaithful. Wasn’t there an unspoken commitment between us?

“Yeah, I like him. He’s a brave kid, but he doesn’t seem to know how to be a boyfriend,” she said, yawning with a drowsy sweetness about her.

That was true. “Well, what will I say to Yuri? I don’t know him. Where would we go?” I whined, “Mom, I can’t say I’m totally over Rory, you know?”

“Whatever, baby.

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