Dead is So Last Year by Marlene Perez

Author:Marlene Perez
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Ya, Fantasy, Vampires
ISBN: 9780152062163
Publisher: HMH Books for Young Readers
Published: 2009-05-04T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I had the early shift at Slim’s the next day, which meant I should have gone to sleep immediately after the meeting. Instead, I lay awake thinking about what Ryan had said. Was it possible that my father was alive and well? Then, why hadn’t he contacted us?

I must have finally fallen asleep, because I jerked awake when the alarm rang. I’d been having a marvelous dream, in which the entire Giordano family was reunited with my father.

I made it to Slim’s on autopilot. Though I was barely awake, I managed to notice Flo’s T-shirt, which read I AM THE EVIL TWIN.

Despite an extra-large latte, I was practically sleepwalking through the lunch rush.

Even Slim noticed. “Daisy, are you all right?”

I smothered a yawn. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you just put nuts in that salad. Mr. Webster ordered it without. He’s allergic.”

“Oh, my gosh!” I set the salad aside and started a new one. “It’ll take me just a minute.”

“It’s okay,” he said. A spatula pointed me toward the front. “Get yourself a cup of coffee. I can handle it for a bit.”

I grabbed the largest coffee cup I could find and headed for the pot. My back was turned away from the door, but I heard it open and then Flo’s gasp.

“Daisy, is that you?” There was something familiar about the voice. I turned as a tall dark-haired man in a suit approached the counter. I suppressed a gasp of my own. My father’s face stared back at me. “Can I help you?”

“It’s me, your father. Don’t you recognize me?”

The jukebox kicked on. The song playing was “Lips Like Sugar” by Echo and the Bunnymen. Coincidence? I remembered the harpy had said that doppelgangers loved sugar.

Lil was definitely trying to tell me something. “How do I know you’re my father?” I asked. He didn’t look like the desperate guy who had been dumpster diving the other day. He was clean and well-dressed.

“The first thing you ever cooked was pancakes. And you burned them.”

But he had eaten every bite, I remembered, and then taught me how to use the stove properly. I relaxed a little. I figured he would, too, if I got him some refreshments.

“Can I get you something?” Test number one.

“Black coffee, please.”

“Would you like a donut with that?”

His eyes jittered to the display case, but his expression remained serene. “No, thanks. Just the coffee, please.”

I bent under the counter, where we kept our coffee cups, and caught a whiff of his cologne. It sent a pang through me. It was a smell I’d never forget. Dreamer by Versace. Dad had worn it as long as I could remember.

I set the cup in front of him and poured it, then scooted the sugar container closer to him. He passed that test, too, when he carefully chose three packets of sugar and stirred them into his coffee. A tiny bloom of hope grew in my chest. That was exactly how my dad used to take his coffee. He used to let me put the sugar cubes in his cup for him when I was little.

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