Shadow of a Girl by Shannon Greenland

Author:Shannon Greenland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: YA; young adult; teen; entangled; Shannon Greenland; runaway; contemporary; rock; rock band; band; tour; secret past; abuse; roadie; singer
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2016-08-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Gramma turns to Vianca. “Did you show Eve her room?”

“Not yet. You’re going to stay in my room,” Vianca tells me, “and I’m bunking with West in the living room.”

I immediately feel guilty. “You don’t have to give me your room.”

Vianca waves her hand through the air. “West and I stay up all night anyway when he comes. Popcorn, zombie movies, Twizzlers. It’s a whole thing we do.”

“It is,” Gramma puts in. “Take her room. You’ll never get any sleep otherwise.”

I think popcorn, zombies, and Twizzlers sound fun.

A few minutes later Vianca shows me to her room. A twin bed with a trapeze sits under a window with a desk and computer in one corner. A bookshelf lines the wall, and an oversize crème fabric chair takes up the other corner with a thick burgundy throw rug underneath it. It’s all so cozy and wonderful and just the type of room I would have loved to have.

“Dad put your duffel on the bed,” she says. “Make yourself at home and come on out when you’re ready.” With that, she spins her chair and is gone.

“Hey,” West says, coming on in. “What did you think of the grand tour?”

“West, your family is amazing. I can’t believe you grew up in all this love.”

His head tilts adorably, but I see the curiosity in his squinting eyes that asks why “love” is amazing to me when to him it’s normal. He holds out his hand. “Come on out. Dad’s making his world famous nachos for Vianca’s birthday.”

I laugh. “Nachos?”

“It’s what Vianca wanted.”

Smiling, I take his hand, and he leads me into the kitchen where island music already fills the air with a fun drum rhythm. Maria sits at the bar, and there’s a lower section to accommodate Vianca’s chair, and Mr. Wolf stands at the stove stirring something that smells delicious.

Gramma hits the blender and starts dancing to the rhythm.

We take bar seats beside Vianca and Maria, and everyone starts talking at once. Vianca and Gramma, West and his dad, Maria and Gramma, then Vianca and West, Mr. Wolf and Maria, then Gramma and West…and on and on it goes, one conversation bumping into another. Laughter, jokes, yelling over each other.

I sit quietly, taking it all in, loving it. Every once in a while someone asks me a question and I answer, then they’re off on another tangent. It’s exactly what a family should be like.

At some point Gramma puts a frothy drink in front of me and winks. “I make the best virgin margaritas around.”

We serve ourselves nachos, and I have to admit, they are the best nachos I’ve ever had. We all eat right here in the kitchen, piled around the island and the bar. If it had been me, this would be the best birthday ever.

Eventually everyone’s done eating, dishes are piled in the sink, and we all move into the living room. Maria cranks the music louder, and they all start dancing.

Mr. Wolf grabs Maria, and Vianca does some crazy spins in her chair.

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