Save Yourself by Kelly Braffet Read Free Book Online Page B

she flashed now was a perfect mirror of their father’s. “Shall I let him share those with me, too?”
    The big muscles at the corners of Dad’s jaw clenched and unclenched. He did that a lot when Layla was around. The shirt Dad was wearing and the way he was wearing it, open down the front with a T-shirt underneath, reminded Verna of the boy from Biology.Mother was setting out bowls of turkey chili and salad and arranging plates of cheese and chopped onion and cilantro on the Lazy Susan. Her hair, a darker blond than Layla’s used to be, was carefully pinned up, and her nails were freshly manicured. Even pulling open a bag of corn chips, Mother was lovely: well-groomed, well-exercised, well-dressed, all of it. Dad was the same way. When you ran a ministry you had to be presentable. The two of them played a lot of tennis and used a lot of personal-care products. They smelled nice, but they made Verna feel like Sasquatch.
    Passing the chips—and changing the subject—Mother asked if they’d had a good first day of school. Layla said that it promised to be the best year ever, if only she could make cheer captain. Everyone ignored her.
    “How did Biology go, Verna?” Dad asked.
    “Fine.”
    “Layla, do you have salad?” Mother asked.
    “I’m a vegetarian,” Layla said. “All I have is salad.”
    “Mr. Guarda didn’t give you any trouble?”
    Verna shook her head.
    “At least eat a little of your chili,” Mother said to Layla.
    “If you want me to eat it, don’t put corpse meat in it.”
    “You’re going to become anemic.”
    “This is good, Michelle.” Dad poured chips onto his chili. “I wouldn’t mind taking a look at your textbook, Verna.”
    “Karen Hensley never used a book,” Mother said.
    Verna swallowed. “They cut the reproduction part out, though, so …”
    Her voice trailed off. Dad smiled at her. “Verna, honey, we know you don’t like to make trouble.”
    Verna looked down at her food.
    “I, of course, love to make trouble,” Layla said.
    “Layla,” Dad said, a note of warning in his voice.
    “What? You didn’t mind so much when it was your trouble. Backthen it was, ‘When’s your next protest, Layla? How many signatures did you get on your petition, Layla? Hey, Layla, maybe you should organize a walkout, I’ll call Channel Seven.’ ”
    All of which was true, Verna thought. “All trouble is not created equal,” Dad said now. “I wouldn’t object to you using physical force to defend yourself, but that doesn’t mean you should walk around hitting people for fun.”
    Layla stuck her knife in her chili. “I’ll cancel my weekend plans, then.”
    Mother sighed. “Layla, must you? Now that knife is going to have to be washed,” she said, and Layla answered, “If you didn’t want us to use them, you shouldn’t have put them on the table.”
    Dad cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he said to Verna, “this particular issue is bigger than whether or not Guarda teaches the same lessons Karen Hensley did. It’s about our right to believe what we believe. Persecution versus freedom, truth versus lies—all of those big ideas that seem very abstract, but in the end they come down to everyday people like you, and everyday battles like this. And in the end, the world is a better place.”
    “Truly moving, Father,” Layla said. “What a speech.”
    Dad’s eyes narrowed. “You do know that it’s because of you girls that I’m called to fight. Everything I do is for the two of you and the world you’re going to grow up in—the world your children are going to grow up in.”
    “Nothing’s even happened yet.” Verna’s voice came out much softer than she intended.
    “I’m not having children. In fact, I think I’m a lesbian,” Layla said.
    Mother made an exasperated noise and threw her napkin down on the table, and Dad put a hand on her arm. “She’s just trying to get to you, Michelle.” He looked at Layla. “You know, just because you’re going through