Tiffany Tumbles: Book One of the Interim Fates by Kristine Grayson Read Free Book Online Page A

tone of voice, like my snapping doesn’t even bother her. (Maybe it doesn’t. Megan is notoriously unflappable.)
    And that’s when it happens—that pully thing she does. The words come out of me even though I vowed not to say anything about this.
    “It feels,” I say quietly, “like I don’t even exist.”
    Megan nods. I get the sense that she not only understands this, she expected it. And if she expected it, how come she didn’t warn me? It’s not fair that I have to go through all this stuff and she just gets to sit there and listen and pretend like everything’s going to be all right.
    “In a way,” she says, “you’re right.”
    “Huh?” I ask again. That sound just kind of eaps out of me when I least expect it, mostly when I’m trying not to say anything.
    “The Tiffany who lived on Mount Olympus and had everything she wanted at the snap of a finger, the Tiffany who was part of a threesome with her sisters Brittany and Crystal, the Tiffany who is Zeus’s daughter, isn’t the girl who has come to Eugene, Oregon,” Megan says.
    My arms cross before I even think about it. “Yes, it is.”
    “Tell me how it is,” Megan says.
    “How what?”
    “How your life here is like your life there.”
    I frown. I’m still the same Tiffany. I’m the girl who had close sisters and Zeus for a dad, and a mom who only visited once a year. But I also had everything I wanted (and servants, which I’ve never told Megan, but I think she suspects it), and if I didn’t have it, I could get it.
    I thought I was pretty smart about popular culture and America and stuff. I mean, most of the movies we saw (DVDs, really) were set here and all of the TV shows, except one about immortals in France and a few in England (and some great Mexican soap operas—okay, not all, but most). I thought it’d be pretty easy.
    And it would’ve been if I still had magic. Imagine what I could’ve done to Mr. McGuillicuty. Or to those kids who don’t notice me. Or to Jenna to make her slouch less. Imagine.
    “Tiffany?” Megan asks. “Tell me.”
    I lick my lips. Then I bite the lower one. It’s not the same. It’s not the same at all.
    “I’m the same person,” I say.
    “Are you?” she asks.
    “Yeah.” The mad is back, and it came back fast. One second I wasn’t mad at all and now I’m ready to spit. “I’m exactly the same.”
    “Only you’re here without your sisters.”
    “That’s your fault.”
    “And your dad can’t protect you.”
    “He never did.”
    “And you live with your mom.”
    “I like her.”
    “And,” Megan pauses like it’s an effect, “you don’t have any magic.”
    “I hate that,” I say.
    We stare at each other. I’m breathing hard like I’ve been running in P.E.
    “What would you do if you had magic?” Megan asks.
    I shrug. I’m not going to tell her about turning Mr. McG into a toad or making Jenna feel better or getting the attention of the other kids.
    “Besides getting revenge on everyone who made you angry,” Megan says with a smile.
    Just a little smile, but it’s enough to keep me mad. “I wouldn’t do that,” I say. “It’s forbidden. I know that.”
    “Okay,” she says in that voice which means she doesn’t believe me. “What would you do with the magic?”
    “I’d go home,” I say. The words just came out. And there wasn’t even a pully-thing. It was like they were waiting to escape.
    “Where’s home?” Megan asks.
    I’m about to snap at her again— Where do you think? —but for a minute, I don’t have any words. I mean, Mount Olympus is technically home, but it wasn’t what I was thinking about when I said that.
    I was thinking about Brittany and Crystal.
    I shrug.
    “Where, Tiffany?” she asks.
    “I just want to see my sisters,” I say.
    “They’re home?”
    I nod. Then I look at my hands. I’m blinking hard. I will not cry in here. I promised myself after the last time. Crying is for babies.
    “In Mount Olympus?”
    “No, dummy,” I