Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants by Ann Brashares Read Free Book Online

maneuvered out of the parking lot.
    “Really good,” she answered. She always looked forward to giving him the rundown. “I got As in math, bio, English, French, and an A minus in world history.” Her mother thought she worried about school too much. To her dad, grades mattered.
    “Bun, that’s fabulous. And sophomore year is an important year.”
    She knew he wanted her to go to Williams, just like he had, and he knew she wanted to too, even though they didn’t say it to each other out loud.
    “What about tennis?” he asked.
    Most people she knew hated these kinds of dad questions, but Carmen worked all year for them. “Bridget and I played first doubles. We only lost one match.”
    She wouldn’t bother to tell him that she got an F in pottery—it wouldn’t go on her transcript—or that the boy she’d crushed on all year asked Lena to the prom or that she’d made her mother cry on Easter Sunday. These conversations were about her victories.
    “I got a court for us on Saturday,” he told her, accelerating onto a highway.
    Carmen studied the scenery. There were motels and strip developments like there were around almost every airport, but the air smelled heavier and saltier here. She studied her dad’s face. He had a tan already. It made his blue eyes stand out. She always wished she’d gotten his eyes rather than her mother’s brown ones. His hair looked recently cut, and his shirt was crisp and neatly cuffed. She wondered if he’d gotten a raise or something.
    “I can’t wait to see your place,” she said.
    “Yeah,” he said absently, glancing into the rearview mirror before he changed lanes.
    “Isn’t it pretty amazing that I’ve never been here before?” she asked.
    He concentrated on the driving. “You know, bun, it’s not that I haven’t wanted you to come long before this. I just wanted to get settled better before I brought you here.” There was a trace of apology in his eyes when he glanced at her.
    She didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. “Dad, I don’t care if you’re settled. Don’t worry about that. We’ll have a great time. Who cares about settled?”
    He exited the highway. “I couldn’t see bringing you into my hectic life. Working so much, living alone in a one-bedroom apartment. Eating every meal out.”
    She couldn’t talk fast enough. “I can’t wait for that. I love eating out. I’m sick of being settled.” She meant it. This was the summer of Carmen and Al.
    He didn’t say anything as they drove along small wooded suburban streets with big Victorian houses rising on either side. Raindrops burst on the windshield. The sky grew so dark it felt almost like nighttime. He slowed down and stopped in front of a cream-colored Victorian with green-gray shutters and a wraparound porch.
    “Where’s this?” Carmen asked.
    Her dad cut the engine and turned to her. “This is home.” His eyes were distant and a little mysterious. He didn’t seem to want to take on the open surprise in hers.
    “That house? Up there? I thought you lived in an apartment downtown.”
    “I moved. Just last month.”
    “You did? Why didn’t you tell me on the phone?”
    “Because . . . there’s a lot of big stuff, bun. Stuff I wanted to say in person,” he answered.
    She wasn’t sure how she felt about big stuff. She turned in her seat. “So? Are you going to tell me?” Carmen was never graceful about surprises.
    “Let’s go inside, okay?”
    He opened his door and hurried around to her side before she echoed his okay. He didn’t get her suitcase. He held his coat over both their heads as they climbed stone steps up to the house.
    He took her arm in his. “Careful. These steps get slippery when it rains,” he said, leading her up the painted wood steps of the front porch. It was as though he’d lived here forever.
    Carmen’s heart was thumping. She had no idea where they were or what to expect. She felt the shape of the apple in her bag.
    Her dad pushed open the door