Wash Me Away by Wendy Owens Read Free Book Online

with crumbs, but I don’t care.
    “We thought after your first week at Burton Academy we’d make you something to celebrate,” Uncle Gil says. I open my eyes to find him watching me.
    “We?” Jane teases.
    “Hey, I shopped for the ingredients,” he defends himself.
    Pressing up on my toes, I give him a crumb-covered kiss on the cheek. Then, spraying the delicious treat as I speak, I say, “Thank you, they’re yummy.”
    Aunt Jane is pouring me a glass of milk before I even finish the first muffin. “So tell us all about it,” she says, removing the pans from the heat and plating up the next round of food to be transported to the dining room for guests.
    I run my tongue over my teeth and take a gulp of milk before answering, “There isn’t much to tell.”
    “Did you decide on your electives?” Gil probes.
    I nod my head. “I’m taking two studio classes in art.”
    “Both in art?” he asks.
    “Since I homeschooled and have never actually had an art class, they said I could do two different art studios,” I explain. “I’m doing one in sculpture and the second in painting.”
    Jane’s watching me; I see her eyes start to glisten.
    “How are they?” Gil is eager with his questions.
    “I haven’t had one yet. Art classes are at the Mountain Campus, and those don’t start until week two,” I answer. Jane is now biting her lip.
    “Oh nice, the Mountain Campus is new,” Gil informs me. I act like this is news to me, even though Craplin had already told me this.
    Jane bows her head. “Are you okay, Aunt Jane?” I ask. Gil looks over to see his wife is visibly shaken. He rushes to her side, putting an arm around her and pulling him into her.
    “Your mom was quite the artist,” her voice is shaking. She looks up into Gil’s eyes, and they smile at each other. “You’re just so much like her.”
    I want to believe them. I want to think that there is something about this woman that connects us. There’s a single picture of her on my dresser, courtesy of Aunt Jane. When I look at the picture, though, she feels like a stranger with a distant connection to the woman who now cares for me. I don’t see any of the same bone structure, eye shape, nothing. Of course I never saw it with Daddy either. I took the least obvious parts of both of them and with that I was created.
    There’s nothing for me to say. I give a tight-lipped smile. I’m uncomfortable and wish that someone would change the subject.
    Marla, our weekend help at the inn, enters the kitchen and I can tell she can sense the awkwardness. Jane stiffens, handing Marla the plates of fresh food. As quick as she entered, she’s gone again.
    “Tell us all about your friends.” Gil to the rescue.
    “Friends?” I repeat, grabbing another muffin and taking a huge bite.
    “I will never understand how you stay so slender.” Jane laughs, lifting a finger to the corner of her eye and wiping away the lingering memory of a tear.
    “You should see Julia,” I say.
    “Now, Julia is the Bancroft girl, right?” Gil clarifies.
    “Yeah, she can eat a box of Hostess snacks and not gain an ounce.”
    “Didn’t you say she’s an athlete?” Jane asks.
    “Yeah, she wants to be on the Olympic ski team.” I’m bragging. It feels like I may have nailed it with my first ever friend.
    “You like her?” Jane asks, leaning forward.
    I think about the question. Julia has an opinion about everything. She has every bad habit and vice a person could have, and somehow she accomplishes everything she wants in life. She’s driven in a way I wish I were. Determined in a way that will cause the world to unfold for her. I smile. “Yeah, I really do.”
    “How about boys?” Gil’s tone reveals that he’s actually asking about boys I might like romantically.
    “Gil!” Jane scolds.
    “What?” He lifts his shoulders innocently.
    Napoleon Blake has a girlfriend. A girlfriend named Olivia. A girlfriend who he has never directly mentioned to me. A girlfriend