Torched_ Afterburn - Shay Mara Page 0,100

enough for a little privacy, but close enough to listen in—and pull out his cell phone.

As soon as he pretended to dial a number and put it up to his ear, I turned to my little sister. “What are you reading?” I asked.

“Little Women. I’ve read it four times already.”

I raised my brows in surprise. “Wow. You like the classics, huh?”

She smiled up at me sweetly. “I like reading everything, especially about vampires and werewolves and wizards. But sometimes you need a break from the fake stuff. That’s why I’m reading this one again. The kids at school think I’m weird because I don’t watch a lot of TV… Do you think that’s weird?”

“Sweetie, I think it’s awesome. Don’t worry about what other kids say and do whatever makes you happy. The popular ones usually end up as losers anyway, it’s the special ones like you who go places. Who’s your favorite sister in Little Women?”

“I like Jo,” she said, with a twinge of excitement in her soft voice. “She didn’t care about rules or what anybody thought, she followed her dreams. I want to be a writer one day too.”

I grinned, my heart nearly exploding out of my chest with pride. I wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like I’d had anything to do with her love of reading or choice of female role models, but I was proud of her nonetheless. “Jo was definitely a strong woman, I’m glad you look up to her. And I’m sure you’ll be an amazing writer one day.”

“What do you do?” she asked.

“I work with computers, it’s not nearly as exciting as writing though.”

“I think that would be fun too. I’m pretty good with computers, I always have to help my dad. He can barely send an email.”

I felt a lump form in my throat at the mention of our mutual sperm donor, but did my best to avoid scrunching my face in disgust from the mere thought of him. At the same time, I was glad she’d brought him up because I had a few questions. “Do you have to write his emails for him? Old people aren’t very good with that kind of stuff.”

She giggled and shook her head. “No, he can write emails, he just never remembers how to attach stuff or forward them to other people. He’s good with his hands though, last year he built me a treehouse.”

I had to hold back even harder, the snarky thoughts in my head were just itching to be verbalized. “That sounds pretty cool. Does he do a lot of stuff like that for you?”

“Yeah, he’s more fun than a lot of dads I know. My mom works at night so it’s just me and him a lot. Well, it used to be like that, but now he has to work more so my mom can take care of me. She’s a nurse. But I’m getting new stem cells soon, so hopefully things go back to normal. I can’t wait to ride my bike again, it’s been for-ever.”

“I’m sure you’ll be back on it in no time,” I assured her. “I have a bike too, but mine has a motor.”

Despite her obvious fatigue, her eyes grew as wide as saucers. “You have a motorcycle?”

“I do. Two of them actually. They’re a lot of fun to ride.”

“That would be sooo cool!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know any girls who have motorcycles.”

“Well, maybe you can get your own one day. Like I said, you should do whatever makes you happy, sweetheart.”

She glanced down at her hands like she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if she should. Not wanting to push, I left her to her thoughts.

After a prolonged moment of awkward silence, she looked back up at me. “You’re the one who’s giving me your stem cells, aren’t you?”

Caught off-guard, I asked, “Why would you think that?”

“Why are you avoiding the question?” she asked.

Fuck me, it was like talking to my younger self. I smiled and shook my head, completely astounded by the similarities in our personalities. “You got me. You’re a smart young woman, aren’t you?”

“Not that smart,” she said with a shrug. “You ask a lot of questions, especially about my family. I just figured.”

“Yeah? How did you get to be so perceptive?”

“I read a lot of mystery books too, they teach you how to look for clues. I almost always know who did it before the end.”

“I guess brains can skip a generation,” I smirked.

She scowled. “What?”

Shit, slip of

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