The Princess of Baker Street by Mia Kerick

Author:Mia Kerick [Kerick, Mia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: young adult
ISBN: 978-1-64080-394-7
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2019-01-22T06:00:00+00:00

17

THE ELECTRICITY isn’t on when I get home from school, and I know right away that I’m up shit creek. Got no paddle either. Everything in my fridge and freezer is probably trash by now. And Mom won’t be back to put money in the Fabio book until at least the weekend.

I’m going to starve. Or freeze. And I won’t be able to call 911 if I fall off the back deck and break my neck because I can’t charge my damn cell phone.

It’s four o’clock and there’s an hour left of daylight, not one spare battery for my flashlight, and zero cash to buy more batteries. I’m about ready to go over to anybody’s house to get some light and heat—shit, when did I start thinking like a damned caveman? The thing is, if I show up at my friends’ houses uninvited, grown-ups will start asking questions. And I mean the kind of questions that could get me reported, and then deported from the world I know. Probably sent off to a lousy group home with a bunch of delinquent strangers. This is the very same reason I can’t tell my sob story to Ms. Paloma at the end of World Geography class or Jan at the library. Nobody can know I’m all alone without light and heat and enough food, or I’m a goner.

But speaking of cavemen, they depended on fire for light and heat, didn’t they? I get up off the pile of blankets on the floor that I never put back in my bedroom since Emily slept over, and I start looking around for a candle and some matches.

“Shit on a shingle.” I spit out Mom’s favorite expression without even a tiny bit of guilt that I cursed out loud in the house. If I have to live like a freaking pioneer until Mom gets her act together, I’ll swear if I want to. I go down the hall and into Mom’s bedroom. She used to like to set a romantic mood with candles when her boyfriends came over. Hopefully she didn’t pack those candles up and take them with her when she moved in with Jimmy or Robby or Doug, or whoever the hell she’s living with instead of me.

“Bingo!” I shout, even though I’m as alone as ever and no one can hear me, except for maybe those long-legged bugs, if they have ears. On her bedside table are a whole bunch of half-melted candles—most of them are red, and some of them are heart-shaped. Whatever. At least I’ll be able to see. Sort of.

And another tiny favor, Mom left a book of matches right beside them.

I guess now I can’t say she never did anything for me.

I grab a couple of candles and the matches and head back to my nest of blankets in the living room. I set the candles on the coffee table and light them, then head into the kitchen to find something to eat.

After searching through my cabinets, I decide the rest of the peanut butter and half a roll of Ritz Crackers will be dinner.

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