Of Poseidon

Of Poseidon by Anna Banks Read Free Book Online

Book: Of Poseidon by Anna Banks Read Free Book Online
Authors: Anna Banks
run into me, huh?” The idea is preposterous, but it leaves room for reasonable doubt. I can see by his expression he didn’t think of that.
    “What?” He is struggling to follow, but what did I expect?
    He can’t even fi nd his class in a school with only three halls.
    That he found me clear across the country seems more miracu-lous than a push- up bra.
    “I said, you’ll have to prove that I ran into you on purpose.
    That I meant to cause you harm. And besides, I checked with you at the time—”
    “Emma.”
    “—and you said you didn’t have injuries—”
    “Emma.”
    “—but the only witness I have on my side is dead—”
    “EM- MA.”
    “Did you hear me, Galen?” I turn around and yell at the remaining spectators in the hall as the bell rings. “CHLOE IS
    DEAD!”
    Sprinting is not a good idea for me in the fi rst place. Sprinting
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    with tears blurring my vision, even worse. But sprinting with tears blurring my vision and while wearing fl ip- fl ops is a lack of respect for human life, starting with my own. So then, I am not surprised when the door to the cafeteria opens into my face. I am a little surprised when everything goes black.
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    6
    HE PULLS into the driveway of the not- so- modest house he asked Rachel not to buy. Cutting the engine to the not- so-modest car, he throws his backpack full of books over his shoulder.
    He fi nds Rachel in the kitchen, where she’s pulling fi sh fi llets from the oven. She wears an apron over her polka- dot dress, and her hair, a chaos of black curls, is pulled into a ponytail. She huff s up at her bangs to get them out of her face as she turns and smiles. “Hiya, cutie! How was your fi rst day of school?” She pops the oven shut with her hip.
    He shakes his head and pulls up a bar stool next to Rayna, who’s sitting at the counter painting her nails the color of a red snapper. “This won’t work. I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says.
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    “Sweet pea, what happened? Can’t be that bad.”
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    He nods. “It is. I knocked Emma unconscious.” Rachel spits the wine back in her glass. “Oh, sweetie, uh . . .
    that sort of thing’s been frowned upon for years now.”
    “Good. You owed her one,” Rayna snickers. “She shoved him at the beach,” she explains to Rachel.
    “Oh?” Rachel says. “That how she got your attention?”
    “She didn’t shove me; she tripped into me,” he says. “And I didn’t knock her out on purpose. She ran from me, so I chased her and—”
    Rachel holds up her hand. “Okay. Stop right there. Are the cops coming by? You know that makes me ner vous.”
    “No,” Galen says, rolling his eyes. If the cops haven’t found Rachel by now, they’re not going to. Besides, after all this time, the cops wouldn’t still be looking. And the other people who want to fi nd her think she’s dead.
    “Okay, good. Now, back up there, sweet pea. Why did she run from you?”
    “A misunderstanding.”
    Rachel clasps her hands together. “I know, sweet pea. I do.
    But in order for me to help you, I need to know the specifi cs. Us girls are tricky creatures.”
    He runs a hand through his hair. “Tell me about it. First she’s being nice and cooperative, and then she’s yelling in my face.”
    Rayna gasps. “She yelled at you?” She slams the polish bottle on the counter and points at Rachel. “I want you to be my
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    mother, too. I want to be enrolled in school.” 0—
    “No way. You step one foot outside this house, and I’ll ar-
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    rest you myself,” Galen says. “And don’t even think about getting in the water with that human paint on your fi ngers.”
    “Don’t worry. I’m not getting in the water at all.”

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