Dark Angel; The Chosen; Soulmate by L.J. Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

all wet and icy) “—and getting all wet and icy. So I cut it. So do you like it, or not?”
    â€œI don’t know,” her mother said slowly. “You look so much older. Like a Parisian model.”
    Gillian glowed.
    â€œWell.” Her mother shook her head slightly. “Now that it’s done—here, let me shape it a little. Just touch up the ends.” She took the scissors from Amy.
    (I’m going to be bald when this is finished!)
    (No, you’re not, kid. She knows what she’s doing.)
    And, strangely, there was something comforting aboutfeeling her mother gently wield the scissors. About her mother’s scent, which was fresh like lavender soap, without any hint of the terrible alcohol smell. It reminded Gillian of the old days, when her mom taught at the junior college and was up every morning and never had uncombed hair or bloodshot eyes. Before the fights started, before her mom had to go to the hospital.
    Her mother seemed to feel it, too. She gave Gillian’s shoulder a pat as she whisked a bit of cut hair away. “I got fresh bread. I’ll make cinnamon toast and hot chocolate.” Another pat, and then she spoke with careful calm. “Are you sure you’re all right? You must have been… pretty cold last night. We can call Dr. Kaczmarek if you want; it wouldn’t take a minute.”
    â€œNo, I’m fine. Really. But where’s Daddy? Did he already go to work?”
    There was a pause, then her mother said, still calmly, “Your father left last night.”
    â€œDad left?” (Dad
left
?)
    (It happened last night while you were asleep.)
    (A
lot
seems to have happened last night while I was asleep.)
    (The world’s kind of that way, dragonfly. It keeps on going even when you’re not paying attention.)
    â€œAnyway, we’ll talk about it later,” her mother said. A final pat. “There, that’s perfect. You’re beautiful, even if you don’t look like my little girl anymore. You’d better bundle up, though; it’s pretty cold out this morning.”
    â€œI’m already dressed.” The moment had come, andGillian didn’t really care if she shocked her mother now or not. Her father had left again—and if that wasn’t unusual, it was still upsetting. The closeness with her mother had been spoiled, and she didn’t want cinnamon toast anymore.
    Gillian stepped to the middle of the kitchen and shrugged off the pink bathrobe.
    She was wearing black hipsters and a black camisole. Over it was a sheer black shirt, worn loose. She had on flat black boots and a black watch, and that was
all
she had on.
    â€œGillian.”
    Amy and her mother were staring.
    Gillian stood defiantly.
    â€œBut you never wear black,” her mother said weakly.
    Gillian knew. It had taken a long time to cull these things from the forgotten hinterlands of her closet. The camisole was from Great-Grandma Elspeth, two Christmases ago, and had still had the price tag attached.
    â€œDidn’t you sort of forget to put on a sweater on top?” Amy suggested.
    (Stand your ground, kid. You look terrific.)
    â€œNo, I didn’t forget. I’m going to wear a coat outside, of course. How do I
look
?”
    Amy swallowed. “Well—great. Extremely hot. But kind of scary.”
    Gillian’s mother lifted her hands and dropped them. “I don’t really know you anymore.”
    (Hooray!)
    (Yup, kid. Perfect.)
    Gillian was happy enough to give her mother a flying kiss. “Come on, Amy! We’d better get moving if we’re going to pick up Eugene.” She dragged the other girl behind her like the tail of a comet. Her mother followed, calling worriedly about breakfast.
    â€œGive us something to take with us. Where’s that old black coat I never wore? The fancy one you got me for church. Never mind, I found it.”
    In three minutes she and Amy were on the porch.
    â€œWait,”