Soul Catcher by Katia Lief

Author:Katia Lief [Lief, Katia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Social Issues, Juvenile Fiction, Adolescence, Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse
ISBN: 9780983542018
Publisher: Blue Table Books
Published: 2011-05-06T14:00:00+00:00

TEN

‘Lookit,’ Gwen said, as we lugged our suitcases I through the crazed holiday crowd at the Port Authority bus terminal. ‘All I’m saying is a little makeup never hurt anyone.’

‘I’m just not that kind of person.’

‘What do you mean that kind of person? What am I, some kind of cheap date? Jesus F. Christ, I get knocked up once,’ she shouted, ‘and you act like I’m some kind of street walker!’

People were staring at us. I walked fast, pretending not to know her.

‘Kate!’ She chased me. ‘Kate!’

Finally I said, ‘You could be a little more discreet!’

‘Ha!’ she said — ‘Ha!’ — but she didn’t sound amused. ‘Discreet? But I have a pale complexion, Kate. Did you hear me? Mrs Nevins! My complexion is too pale!’

I dashed through the door to the taxi stand outside, trying to get away before Gwen caught up with me. I had told her not to call me Mrs Nevins. Sharing the experience with her had been a mistake. I should have known better. All information — secrets or not — ultimately became Gwen’s property. At least I hadn’t told her about my plans for New Year’s Eve.

‘Okay,’ Gwen said, racing up behind me. ‘I apologize.’

I didn’t answer, didn’t even look at her.

‘You’re being too hard on me. Give me a break, okay? Okay?’

A cab drove up, and a man in a grey suit and camelhair coat tried to cut in front of us. Gwen pushed past him, saying, ‘Come on, Kate, get in!’

‘Where to?’ the cabbie asked.

‘Where to?’ Gwen repeated to me.

I pulled the slip of paper from my jacket pocket. ‘989 Park Avenue.’

‘What cross street?’ he asked.

Gwen and I looked at each other. I shrugged. She said, ‘989 Park Avenue. What are you, deaf?’

989 Park Avenue — Mom’s swanky new address — put Dad’s crosstown digs to shame. It was a huge old limestone building with a blue awning perched on brass poles. When a man in a navy blue uniform rushed out and took our bags, I thought he was trying to rob us.

‘Don’t be a dufus,’ Gwen said. ‘He’s the doorman!’

Ah, yes — the doorman. Growing up in the suburbs, then sequestered at Grove, I had never encountered this urban species. Not even at Dad’s; his building was strictly self-serve elevator.

‘I’m John,’ the doorman said. ‘Mrs Steiner said to expect you.’ He smiled, more at us than with us. It was like we were a couple of hicks. I guess we were.

Gwen, sophisticate extraordinaire, didn’t like it. She said, ‘Please show us to the elevator,’ and marched into the building.

The large foyer had a polished marble floor and was furnished with four couches, two armchairs and a huge glass vase filled with orange tiger lilies and sprigs of eucalyptus. A sparkling chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling. John deposited us with our suitcases in front of a polished brass elevator at the far end of the foyer.

We rode up to the eleventh floor. I looked at the paper. ‘11D,’ I said.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.