In Between by Jenny B Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

worrying. My first day at In Between High.
    With a big sigh, I heave my body out of bed and grab my new fluffy pink robe. Maybe I could fake a fever? How hard would it be to conjure up a case of chicken pox? I think I could do a fine imitation of a whooping cough.
    My slippers go whish, whish as I drag my feet across the hardwood floor to my closet. It’s time to mentally prepare for my clothing selection for today. Ah, there’s that white shirt with the cool sleeves that look so chic. And the short plaid skirt is just calling my name. “ Katie! Put me on, Katie! I show off your calves and accentuate your waist! ” Oh, and what about the jeans with the recognizable design on the pocket that just shouts “ Even though I was probably made by a five-year-old in a third-world country, I am ultra trendy and super expensive! ”
    I run my hands along the rows of clothes hanging proudly in my closet. Not today, pretty things. There is work to be done. If my goal is to leave, it’s time to kick start Project: I Want to Go Back . (It was all I could come up with at 3:30 a.m.)
    I bypass the many hangers of new clothes, move toward the back of the closet and pull out today’s uniform. Black shirt, black skirt, and a black trench coat. I step over my new running shoes, my funky flats, and the cutest leather sandals ever and pick up a sturdy, although mighty ugly pair of black lace-up boots.
    In the bathroom adjoining my room, I quickly get dressed, hoping Millie won’t check on me before I get myself all ready. The look I am going with today is one you must take in all at once and not in stages.
    I spend another twenty minutes crafting my hairstyle for my Monday premiere. I straighten my hair as flat as it will possibly go, so it falls limp and clings to my face. My bangs hang over my eyes like a curtain, and it isn’t lost on me that I resemble a sheep dog. I hope I don’t walk into walls or accidentally venture into the men’s room with this hairdo. Reaching into my cosmetic bag, I take out some purple cream hair tint, and run it through sections of my hair, creating a few obnoxiously bold stripes.
    Now for the pièce de résistance. My makeup is my medium, my face the canvas. I paint black eye shadow over my eyelids, outlining with ebony kohl eyeliner, and adding layers of cakey, dark mascara. With a swipe of some extremely dark lipstick in a color somewhere between gross and disturbing, I survey my finished product.
    I look absolutely horrible.
    The boys will not be flocking to this girl. But that’s okay. I am not here to think about boys. The plan is to get out of this Taco-Bell-less town. Today I am Goth Girl. Like a superhero gone bad, I will roam the halls, looking for people to intimidate and striking a scary pose here and there.
    When Millie and James Scott see this, they will be so scared they will have me packed up before my spiked dog collar is fastened.
    “Katie! Time for breakfast! Are you awake?”
    Speaking of the wonder parents, there’s my cue. For a second I hesitate. Would it be so bad to roll with it and play nice? I could have all those clothes and a home for a while. But I know it’s only a matter of time before they change their minds and send me back anyway. I’ve heard all sorts of horror stories from girls at the home—girls who are moved from one foster home to another, never allowed to stay in one place. Yeah, well, not Katie Parker. I won’t travel from town to town like some sort of concert roadie. (Unless I could actually be a concert roadie. Totally different.)
    My boots make loud thuds on the stairs as I charge down to the kitchen. Propelling off the last step, I hold back on my impulse to yell out “ta-da!” and land right in the doorway of the room. Smack in front of the awaiting Scotts.
    Mrs. Scott’s mouth opens, and her coffee mug hangs mid-sip.
    Mr. Scott squeezes his eyes shut then peels them open again.
    Rocky yelps and scampers behind Mr. Scott, peeking between his