The Color Of Grace by Linda Kage

The Color Of Grace by Linda Kage

Author:Linda Kage
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press LLC
Published: 2012-08-31T17:00:00+00:00


Chapter 15

Stable, wholesome, organic, orderly. Brown is supposed to be a practical, natural color. Earth. Wood. Stone. It’s true to its environment, never changing, oh-so-reliable. The only thing reliable about me these days is confusion. I no longer feel like the wholesome girl I was in Hillsburg, and nothing is neat and tidy anymore. Nothing is stable here. Nothing is brown. Not even me.

* * * *

Todd kissed me again before the night was over.

I tried to avoid it. Honest.

I didn’t even want him to drive me home. But when I called Barry’s house, ready to be picked up after we’d finished bowling, no one answered the phone. And Todd just so happened to be hanging around after I hung up. I must’ve looked as lonely and desperate as I felt because he surged toward me, all perky and hopeful as if he knew exactly what kind of predicament I’d found myself in.

Grr. Fate had it in for me, didn’t it?

“Everything okay?” he asked, but he didn’t sound worried. The turd sounded optimistic.

I nodded but admitted, “My stepdad didn’t answer the phone.”

His eyes lit. “Do you need a ride home? I could give you a lift.”

As I glanced past him, my gaze sought an alternate outlet. Too bad Joel was long gone. I would’ve made him give me a lift home, or better yet, I would’ve made him take me to his house because I needed a dose of Bridget like you wouldn’t believe.

Mindy’s boyfriend was holding open the front exit for her to precede him outside. I suppose I could’ve dashed after them and begged a ride. But that would look a bit too obvious. I caught sight of Kiera and immediately glanced Ryder’s way. He wouldn’t have a problem dropping me off at Barry’s house. I’m not sure how I knew that; I just did. Except I did not want to be stuck in the same automobile with him and Kiera for any length of time. So I nixed that. With dread pooling in my gut, I looked up at Todd, bit the inside of my lip, and gave him a sick, little smile.

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

He tried to engage me in conversation on the drive, but it didn’t really take. I answered in short, one or two word phrases, which made me feel all rude and ungrateful. But the more I learned about Todd Stangman, the less I wanted to.

He played mean jokes on his friends. Not just fun, light-hearted teasing like sprinkling salt and pepper and maybe a little ketchup in someone’s drink when they were off in the bathroom, but cruel jokes like tacking a sign on someone’s back that said, “I’m horny,” and then writing the friend’s name and phone number underneath.

Ryder had been the one to spot the note and tear it off the poor guy’s back. As the boy’s face had turned a dark, scarlet red from mortification, Todd had burst out laughing, slapping at his knee, unable to stop, letting everyone plainly know he had been the offender.



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