Deceived by Julie Anne Lindsey Read Free Book Online Page B

anyone knew I’d been there. I was more like backup than the main event. I’d probably make a good designated driver in college.
    “Tell me everything the minute you get home, and I promise to tether you to Earth on another night.”
    Pixie was as much of a loner on the inside as I was. I suspected the makeup and dramatics were mostly show. At home we wore yoga pants and herbal facemasks and watched reality television. Our apartment was a quiet, girls’ drama−free zone.
    I jogged from the car to our door, hoping to make it inside before she barreled away. I kicked the pile of cigarette butts aside and looked around. There were two more since the morning. I slid my key into the lock and prayed it was locked. The soft click assured me it was, but the eerie sensation I’d struggled with all day returned. One last look at the soiled welcome mat and I hustled inside to lock the door behind me. My stomach coiled inward at the smell. Deep in my mind, a memory rushed by too quickly to capture.

Chapter Five
    I took a heavy breath, focusing on one thing at a time. First, the ribbon. The whole Brian fiasco had taken center stage in my mind for most of the day. I needed to think about the ribbon. I dug through my backpack. Who had lockers near mine? Who would’ve shoved a ribbon in through a vent instead of opening the door? Someone who had borrowed it and wanted to return it? Unlikely. Someone in a hurry? Possible. Maybe someone had found it and tried to return it to the one they thought it belonged to and got my locker instead. I pictured my dowdy, portly homeroom teacher with her frizzy hair and orthopedic sneakers. She didn’t look like someone who got everything right.
    At ten, I started a new pot of coffee. The phone rang.
    “Well, Gabriella, how was your first day of school? Do you feel like a senior yet?” Dad sounded stoic as always. Relief washed over me.
    “Yes,” I tried to match his tone. “I feel one step closer to college in Fiji.”
    “So close? I thought you wanted to see the world.”
    “Well, NYU hasn’t exactly come to claim me, but it’s still early.” I’d applied exclusively to colleges in cities without annual watermelon or apple-cider festivals: Boston, Chicago, New York, L.A. Whoever would have me.
    “Anything unusual happen today?”
    Could he somehow know about my day?
    “Fall on the stairs? Drop your lunch? Something to make you appreciate the fact that dear old Dad sent you to a small school where your friends will feel like family?”
    Of course, I was wrong. My eyes rolled in their sockets. Paranoia was so lame. “No, well, yeah. No, nothing like that, but yeah, something strange.”
    His voice changed. His disposition immediately tempered. I could practically see him shifting in his chair. He’d always been protective of me, of my happiness, especially after losing Mom. “What happened?”
    “Well, my locker was jammed after first period. I was late because it took so long to get in.” I considered ending it there. I hated to worry him unnecessarily while he was on the road, and he definitely sounded worried. I teetered.
    “What else?” His voice thickened with insistence, like a television interrogator examining a criminal in custody.
    I stiffened, afraid not to answer. “There was a black satin ribbon inside … like the ones Mom used to wear.” The last part slipped out. He never talked about Mom. Ever. My voice had caught, and I was sure he’d heard it. Matter of fact, telling the story aloud made it seem sad and pathetic. What did it matter? No one had broken into my locker, I didn’t think. The vent seemed the most likely way for the ribbon to have entered, though the locker did jam. It would have taken a long time to feed the ribbon in. I tapped a well-chewed nail against the phone. Black matched the uniform. Plenty of girls wore khaki pants and white polo tops. A black ribbon might look cute. I ignored the voice telling me to mention that our apartment door had