Labyrinth Society by Angie Kelly

Author:Angie Kelly
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Astraea Press, LLC
Published: 2014-05-28T21:00:00+00:00

Part Four:

Lily and the Trickster Crows

Chapter Ten

It's my turn. Finally. And about time, too. By now I bet you think you've got me all figured out. Lily the tough girl. Lily the fighter. Ha! What a joke. Yeah, I can hold my own if some goon tries to mess with me or one of my friends. But somebody's got to do it, right? Alex can't do it all. Tomi has the street smarts of a gerbil, and Devon is so into herself she doesn't see trouble coming until its right in her face. So I end up being the go-to girl when the bad stuff starts going down. But trust me. There's more to me than just an awesome roundhouse kick.

My face was aching from all the smiling and nodding I'd been doing ever since I ran into Tomi. She was jabbering away like a hyperactive parakeet. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. And it's no use trying to interrupt her when she gets like this. She can go on forever. And it was a good thing I found her because as usual, she wasn't paying any attention to where she was going. I'd already kept her from stepping into at least three piles of dog poo. I admit I wasn't paying as much attention to what she was saying as I should have been. I was too busy checking alleys and doorways for Dr. McFarland and her thugs. Even though they didn't look too bright, pretty soon they'd have to realize Tomi wasn't in the sewer and come looking for us. And where was Alex? It had been an hour and a half since we scattered, and we'd heard not one peep from him. It wasn't like him at all. Tomi was right. He could look out for himself better than any of us, but I was still worried. I'd called him three times and texted twice and he never answered.

"Maybe Alex lost or broke his phone in the fight. He'll find us, don't worry," said Tomi when she finally shut up and noticed the look on my face. "Worrying is so bad for your face; you'll have wrinkles before you're sixteen."

Telling me not to worry is like telling me not to breathe. My abuelo’s nickname for me is Mother Hen, 'cause he says I have a caring and protective nature. At least he did back when he could still remember my name. I started living with my grandfather when my parents were killed in a car accident when I was nine. They'd both been in the military. They were Marines; they'd survived two tours in Iraq just to come home and get killed by some loser drunk driver. Grandpa's the only family I had left, and Alzheimer's was stealing him away from me, too, a little bit each day. So can you blame me for being worried about the people I care about?

And Alex was right. I hadn't been to mass since my grandfather went into the nursing home. I've tried, but I'm kinda mad at God right now, and I'm feeling guilty about it.

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