Bad Girls Don't Die by Katie Alender Read Free Book Online

heels clack-clacked past us down the hall as she dumped her briefcase in the living room. She came back, sat down, and started serving herself.
    “Well, look who’s on time,” Dad said. He picked up a fortune cookie and pretended to nod. “‘Confucius say: paper clips more important than family.’”
    Mom dropped her spoon with a clatter. “Darrell, please don’t start with me tonight.”
    Dad shrugged and went back to his food.
    “I get to go see the Homecoming parade on Friday,” Kasey said.
    “That’s interesting,” Dad said, completely uninterested. “Who’s Surrey playing in the game?”
    All eyes on me.
    “Oh, please,” I said. “You’re kidding, right? Like I care.”
    “It wouldn’t hurt you to show a little school spirit,” Mom said. As if she were a fan of high school football. Mom can take a simple observation, such as saying that it wouldn’t hurt for a person to show a little school spirit, and say it in such a way that she might as well be saying, “It wouldn’t hurt you to stop clubbing those baby seals.”
    “I think they’re playing West Hardy,” Kasey chirped. “Aren’t they?”
    “I have no idea,” I said, even though there were about a hundred trees’ worth of “Go Eagles! Beat the West Hardy Wolverines!” posters plastered around campus.
    “Are you going to the dance?” Mom asked. Somewhere deep down inside she held on to the hope that one night I’d show up with my brown hair back, a pack of preppy friends in tow, and turn into Teen Princess Barbie, homecoming court, star tennis player . . . like she’d been in high school.
    “Oh, yeah,” I said. “My only problem is trying to decide who to go with—the captain of the football team or Zac Efron.”
    “If you went, I bet you could be the Homecoming Queen,” Kasey said.
    I almost said something rude, but then I saw her shining eyes and how a hint of a smile turned her lips up at the corners. She really meant it.
    “I’d need a fairy godmother,” I said. Kasey laughed.
    “You’d need a miracle,” Mom said down to her plate. Then she glanced up in surprise. If we were on a sitcom, she would have said, “Oh, did I say that OUT LOUD?” and the canned laughter would have kicked in.
    Silence sank over us. The only sounds were chewing and Mom’s knife sawing through her chicken. My mother uses a knife and fork on foods that were never meant to be eaten that way. I personally think a psychologist would have a lot to say about it.
    “Kasey, I don’t think a plateful of rice is an acceptable meal,” Mom said suddenly.
    Kasey ducked her head down as Mom spooned a heaping serving of spicy beef onto her plate.
    “She doesn’t like that stuff,” I said.
    “This has nothing to do with you, Alexis,” Mom said.
    “Tell her you don’t want it, Kasey,” I said.
    Kasey was tracing figure eights in her food. She clearly didn’t have the least intention of eating any, but she didn’t protest.
    Mom let the subject drop. I think she felt like she’d done her motherly duty, and now she could go on with her life.
    She stuck a final forkful into her mouth and pushed her chair away from the table.
    “Sorry to eat and run,” she said. “I just have a bunch of reports to look over. We have a consultant coming in tomorrow, and I need to brush up on some quarterlies out of the sales department.” She says this stuff as if it means anything to us. “I’ll be in my bedroom. Knock if there’s an emergency.”
    “Mommy,” Kasey said suddenly. “I need to talk to you.”
    Mom looked only slightly concerned. “Is everything okay?”
    “I need help with a project.” Kasey stared down at her food. “It’s for school.”
    “Can we talk about it later this week?”
    “No,” Kasey whined. “I don’t have very much time.”
    Mom sighed. “Look, Kase, I’m totally swamped. Maybe Alexis can help you.”
    “Hey!” I said. “I have my own stuff to do.”
    “But it’s extra credit,” Kasey said. The Holy Grail