Texas Lane by Andie Fenichel EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: Alley Rose
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
I toss aside first one notebook and then another, searching the coffee table
for my bus pass.
“This is why she needs a car,” my dad grumbles from the other side of
the video call that takes up the screen of my cellphone.
“I don’t need a car, Dad,” I insist. “The bus is fine; I just need to find
I can practically hear him roll his eyes as I shift a comic book resting
on the sofa. The card isn’t there either, though, so I make for the secretary
desk near the front door. You’d think living in a loft-style apartment would
make it easier to keep track of things, but it turns out that having a larger
space just means I lose track of things even faster.
“Of course, if she did have a car, she’d never find the keys…” my dad
“Sal, go make yourself a sandwich,” my mom shoos him away as I
riffle through unopened letters and bills. “Your blood sugar is low.”
I can hear my dad muttering as he walks away from my mom’s
camera phone and the rush of static as she sighs and then swears softly.
“Found it!” I announce, holding the plastic card up to the phone
camera in triumph.
My mom ignores the minor victory and instead asks, “How are you
holding up, hon? Are you ready for tomorrow?”
I nod, my mouth busy holding my bus pass between my teeth as I
draw my purse toward me from across the little table and rummage inside for
my wallet. Finding it, I flip it open and take the card from between my teeth
to slide into the clear plastic pocket at the front.
“Nervous?” she pries.
“Nah,” I lie. “I’m okay.”
It will be my first day working at a local publishing company—a job
I’ve been pining after for ages. After nearly a year of supermarkets, coffee
shops, and babysitting, I’m more than ready for a Real Job™—especially one
where I can make use of the oh-so-fancy degree I spent so much time and
money earning. To me, this position marks my transition into real-dealadulthood.
But why does it have to start tomorrow of all days?
Tomorrow is May 8th
. The day I lost my best friend. The day
“Don’t worry, hon,” my mom assures me. “I know tomorrow is a hard
day for you, but you’ve got this.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I force a smile.
“Get some rest and call me after your shift to tell me all about it,” she
instructs before we exchange a series of lingering goodbyes, each one longer
than the last before my dad finally ends the call by shouting for my mom’s
help from across their house.
I yawn gratefully as I click off the screen of my phone and slip it into
the pocket of my Totoro jammies. It’s late. I need to be up bright and early
tomorrow, but I take the time to brush my teeth, take my medicine, and set
out my clothes for tomorrow—including making sure my purse has
everything I’ll need, too.
At last, I slip into bed beneath my weighted blanket, double-check
that the alarm for tomorrow is set, plug in my cell phone, turn off the lamp at
my bedside, and triple-check the alarm.
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