Keeping The Moon by Dessen Sarah

Author:Dessen, Sarah [Dessen, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Young Adult, Chick-Lit
ISBN: 9780756954093
Google: CNtqgGyNGgQC
Amazon: 0142401765
Goodreads: 104378
Publisher: Speak
Published: 1999-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

The first thing I saw when we stepped inside was Isabel, her hair in rollers, crossing the kitchen floor to turn up the CD player. She had on cutoffs and a short white shirt, and her bare feet had cotton balls between each toe. The polish on her toenails was bright red and still looked wet.

“Is this new?” Morgan yelled, as I put the eggs down on the coffee table. Isabel tossed her a CD case before heading back to the kitchen. Morgan turned it over, examining it.

“I love disco,” she said.

I nodded. I had my eyes on Mira’s house, my excuses ready. I could not stay.

“I bought supplies,” Isabel announced, coming back into the living room with a grocery bag. She started unpacking it, stacking its contents on the table and floor: two six-packs of beer, a six-pack of Diet Coke, Cosmo, two bottles of nail polish, a pack of Fudge Stripes, and a plastic container of what looked like cold cream. Then she picked up the bag and shook it, emptying out a handful of Atomic Fireballs, two packs of gum, and some cigarettes; there were a couple of boxes of sparklers, too.

“For you,” she said to me, handing over the gum. She gave Morgan the Atomic Fireballs and kept the cigarettes, tucking them in her shorts pocket.

“Isabel,” Morgan said disapprovingly. Actually, she yelled. We were all yelling to be heard over the Bee Gees. “You quit, remember?”

“I got you Fudge Stripes,” Isabel pointed out. “So hush.”

“Fudge Stripes don’t kill you,” Morgan fussed.

“Morgan.” Isabel shook her head. “Let it go, okay? Just for tonight.”

“They cause cancer,” Morgan said.

“Let it go….” Isabel said, closing her eyes.

“And heart disease.”

“Let it go….”

“And emphysema.”

“Morgan!” Isabel opened her eyes. “Let it go!”

Morgan reached for the Fudge Stripes and sat back on the couch. “Fine,” she said, ripping open the package and stuffing one in her mouth in a sloppy, very un-Morgan-like fashion. Then she held them out to me.

“No thanks,” I said.

“You never eat anything bad,” she said. To Isabel she called out, “Ever noticed that, Is?”

“Noticed what?”

“That Colie eats so healthy, it’s disgusting,” Morgan said. “I’ve never even seen her have a french fry.”

“And she runs every morning.” Isabel came back and plopped down on the floor, reaching for a beer. “I always see her when I get up to pee. She’s out there at some ungodly hour.”

“Eight o’clock,” I said.

“Exactly,” Isabel said.

“Well, if Kiki Sparks was your mother,” Morgan said, her mouth full, “I guess you’d have to be a health freak, right?”

I just nodded. People assumed that, never knowing my mother’s favorite food in the Fat Years—and now—was fried pork rinds.

Isabel popped the top off her beer, then handed one to Morgan. She gave me a Diet Coke. “I’d give you a beer,” she said, “but…”

“But you’re underage,” Morgan said primly. “And it would be illegal.”

Isabel rolled her eyes.

“Well, it would be.” Morgan pulled her legs up underneath her. “When I was fifteen I lived off Coke and Reese’s cups.

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