Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“IMOGEN!” Shoot. I don’t look at my shouting father. I simply walk past him and into the house. I wave to my mom and hurry up the stairs to the room Rayna and I share. Shutting the door, I lean against it, clutching my chest, gasping for air wondering why the hell, my body is feeling like I am going to faint. Why do I feel deprived of oxygen, but also invigorated?
Changing into my house clothes, I pull out my diary and write a few words that describe what I am feeling right now. Confused. Hot. Curious. Defeated. “Imogen.” My mom shouts my name from downstairs.
Jumping, I hide my diary under the floorboard under the bed and hope my face doesn’t show my thoughts. Entering the kitchen, I swipe my pink apron off the wall and tie it around my neck and waist. Rayna is already chopping something at the counter. I assume that Aasta is at work, but where is Adriel?
“Mother, where is Adriel?” I ask. I cannot conjure an answer for myself. Mother shrugs her shoulders, not stopping what she is doing rolling the dough. Rayna peeks over at me and I can see the worry I am feeling reflected on her face. Oh God. Father is going to be pissed and it is going to make for a tense night.
Dinner is spent listening to Father condemn my sister. “That girl has always been a problem. We should have sent her to the Heathen farm when we had a chance. Didn’t I tell you she would be the problem, wife?” I wince when he says that last word. My father calls her ‘Wife,’ but it doesn't sound endearing or loving. It sounds like ownership in the worst way and it makes me cringe.
My mother doesn’t answer. She simply nods and continues to eat. Rayna says nothing but occasionally she looks at me and we have that twin conversation. Trouble is brewing. “Either of you girls keeping up with your scripture reading for Sunday?” We have assigned Scriptures we have to study that coincide with teen bible study on Sunday.
“Yes, Father.” He simply nods and finishes his food. Once he is done and only then are we allowed to move from the table and clear it. I help my mom wash the dishes and then place them on the drying rack. Making sure she needs nothing else; I walk upstairs and float toward the window almost as if I am being summoned by something out of my control. I wonder if he can see me? Is my window facing his?
“Get a grip, Imogen. This is going to lead down a path of damnation. Why is my body saying the opposite?
CHAPTER 7
“Boys come down here for a minute.” My dad’s booming voice breaks my trance. I have been staring out of my window toward my Pequeña’s house, willing her to come into my view. Pure obsession has touched me now. She has been my sole thought from the moment I sat next to her and now I know she lives across the street. How the hell am I supposed to stop myself from sneaking in her window and making her my woman?
Reluctantly I turn from the window and head downstairs. I sit beside two of my brothers and wait for my dad to say whatever it is. “Sons, I wanted to discuss behavior. This town is heavily religious and the town pastor is in the house across from us. Your past behavior will not be tolerated here. We are the outcasts, boys. Please try to fly under the radar long enough to get the business consistent. Huh. He should have had this talk before I found her. Now, not even God himself can stop me from taking what was made for me.
“Where is Manny?” Bastian asks. All of us know this speech is more for Manny than anyone.
“No idea to be honest.” dad says clearly annoyed. “He is not answering his phone.”
“What, he found a girl already?” Mateo jokes beside me. The thing is, I wouldn’t put it past him.
“Dear Lord.” My mom says from in front of the stove.
“How was school Alex?” My dad’s voice is concerned and for a second I feel guilt. My parents are good people and great parents. They dote on all of us and we have never wanted for anything. I feel guilty when I don't want to engage, but I am who I am.
“Good.”
“That’s it?” He is waiting for me to elaborate.
“Yes.” See. I am an asshole.
“What aren't you saying?” he is leaning closer to me, staring me in the eyes looking for answers he won’t find there. There is nothing in them. At least not right now when my new reason for everything is so far away from me, yet so close.
“Nothing.”
“Alex, son, you know I am here for you. Right? There is nothing you can say to me that makes it otherwise.”