Imaginary Enemy by Julie Gonzalez Read Free Book Online Page A

ad-libbed.
    The third week, opening the instrument case qualified as practice in my book. I did that every day. And I actually removed the guitar from the case twice (with some strong urging from Mom).
    “I’m so proud of you for practicing without being told,” Dad said one rainy Saturday. “You’re sounding better all the time.”
    “Thanks,” I replied, desperate to hide my confusion. I’d spent the whole morning playing video games.
    “Elliot said you were progressing slowly. I’m not sure I agree. I’m no musician, but what you did today is a vast improvement over last week.”
    “Thanks.” What in the world was he talking about? I hadn’t touched that guitar. I hated it! My fingers got tangled in the strings, and after a month of lessons I still couldn’t read the notes. All that line, space, sharp, flat, and eighth-note stuff rattled my brain. It amazed me when I saw Sharp and Chord brush their fingers effortlessly over the strings to fill the air with music. When I played, it sounded more like a train wreck.

Ferrier’s Point Marina
    O ne morning about seven weeks after the Meltdown, Dad said, “Go put on your shoes and socks. I’m taking you kids to meet my new girlfriend.”
    The feeling inside me was horrible. I wanted to find a place to hide and never return, to scream, puke, rage, and die all at one. I knew my mother was Dad’s second wife, that we were his second family—my half brother Luke made that obvious. Was Dad now moving on to some other lady? I looked at my mother, who was loading the dishwasher. Her face was placid and undisturbed—almost satisfied.
    “Girlfriend?” asked Zander. “You can’t have a girlfriend. Mom’s your girlfriend.”
    Dad winked. “That she is.”
    “Well, you can’t have another one,” argued Zander.
    “Just go put on your shoes,” said Dad. “Now.”
    I grabbed Luke’s elbow in the hallway. “Dad has a girlfriend?”
    Luke, stonefaced, shook me off without comment.
    Minutes later, we were all piling into the car. And when I say “all,” that includes my mother. I knew some kids from school who had unusual family setups, so a list of creative possibilities raced through my head. At the same time, it simply did not compute—we were a
regular
family, and it made no sense for my mother to sit in the car smiling while my father took us to meet his girlfriend.
    The morning sun streamed through the car windows and into my eyes, making tears slip from them. I turned my face to the side so no one could see.
    Dad pulled into the parking lot at Ferrier’s Point Marina on Bayou Angelica and parked. “Come on,” he said. Reluctantly, I unlatched my seatbelt. I didn’t want to leave the comparative safety of the car. As long as we sat there, nothing could change. “Can’t wait for you kids to see her. She’s a real beauty.”
    Again I looked at my mother—tried to read hurt or shame or anger in her eyes, but again she seemed more content than she had since the day of the Meltdown.
    We followed them down the pier. Oddly, they were holding hands. Dad stopped in front of a cabin cruiser with teak trim. “Well?”
    Luke, Zander, Carmella, and I stood by mute.
    “What do you think?” Dad asked. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”
    I looked around. We were the only people on the dock.
    “Who?” Zander asked, at least as confused as I was.
    My father grinned. “My girlfriend.
Annika Elise.
”
    Luke and I exchanged glances. I knew that Luke, like me, was wondering if this was Meltdown Number Two and we’d be heading for the loony bin with Dad in a straitjacket before the day ended. “There’s no one there,” Luke muttered uncomfortably.
    Dad grinned. “The boat, kids. People commonly refer to a boat as ‘she.’” He motioned toward the words
Annika Elise
painted on the stern in blue and silver letters. I hadn’t noticed them before when I was scanning the piers for some supermodel of a woman.
    “Boat?” Carmella asked.
    “This is the