Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
In an instant I saw my whole life flash before my eyes.
I saw myself suspended for my cell phone, then refused any kind of scholarship, then stuck waitressing at the I-Scream, U-Scream ice cream parlor slash diner, which is currently my after school job, for the rest of my life.
All because I forgot to put my damn cell phone on silent.
Bran seemed to understand at once what was going on—I must have looked really panicked and guilty. That or else my pulse, which he was still taking, had suddenly gone into overdrive.
“It’s yours?” he asked me in a low voice.
I gave a quick, jerky nod, unable to speak.
“All right,” Mr. Barron snarled, slapping down his cup of coffee so hard that the bitter brown liquid slopped over the side and splattered his newspaper. “I said whose is it?”
“Which pocket?” Bran asked me softly.
I frowned at him, what was he planning to do?
“Number seventeen,” I whispered back.
He nodded and then looked at the shoe rack, concentrating so hard it almost seemed like he was trying to burn a hole in the plastic pocket which held my phone with his eyes. I thought I saw him whispering something to himself but none of the words I heard made sense to me. They sounded like they were in some other language—one I’d never heard before.
Suddenly my phone cut off in mid-ring. I threw an amazed glance at Bran. Did he do that or was it just a coincidence?
Whichever it was, I wasn’t out of hot water yet. Mr. Barron was stalking over to the phone holder, a scowl still on his face. He looked like he was dying to suspend someone.
“Whose was that?” he demanded, glaring at the class. “I don’t care that it stopped ringing, whoever owns that phone had better come up here and turn it off now, so it doesn’t ring again. If you get up here quick I might only give you detention for a month.”
Detention for a month? That would spell the end of my after-school job and then I wasn’t sure how Mom and I would make ends meet. She earned enough as a medical transcriptionist to pay the rent on our crappy little apartment and keep the electric on but my salary from the I Scream was what mostly bought the groceries and paid the water bill.
Still, detention was better than suspension. Maybe my boss, Joey down at the I Scream would let me take a leave of absence or maybe just come in an hour later. I doubted it—he wasn’t exactly the most understanding manager—but I had nothing else to hope for.
Slowly, I began to raise my hand.
Only to hear Bran say, “Excuse me, Mr. Barron—I’m afraid that was my phone. It sounded like my ring-tone, anyway.”
“All right then get up here and turn it off, O’Connor,” Mr. Barron snarled. “And you can count yourself lucky all you get is detention.”
“Yes, Sir.”
As I stared incredulously, Bran made his way to the front of the room, fished my phone out of pocket seventeen, and turned it off. Thank goodness I didn’t have an overly-girly phone case like Morganna’s. My plain green case really did look like it could belong to Bran or any other guy in the class for that matter.
“All right, good,” Mr. Barron grumbled as Bran let the phone slide back into its pocket. “And it had better not happen again, O’ Connor.”
“No Sir, it won’t,” he promised and came back to slide in beside me at our lab table.
I waited until everyone had gone back to their lab, including Morganna Starchild who was staring with sharp interest at the two of us. But when she finally turned around and focused her attention on flirting with Elian Darkwing again, I felt free to talk.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I murmured to Bran. “I mean thank you—it was amazing—but you really didn’t have to do it.”
“I know.” He gave me a smile that was surprisingly attractive on his homely face. “But chivalry isn’t dead—at least where I come from. I couldn’t leave a lady in distress.”
“Where did you come from?” I asked curiously as we resumed doing the lab. “I mean, I know you’re not from this armpit of a town but where did you transfer in from?”
“Someplace very far away,” was all he said but there was a distant and almost melancholy look in his no-color eyes that touched me somehow. Wherever he came from, it seemed like he missed it and wished he was back there instead of here in Frostproof at Nocturne Academy.
Not that I blamed him—Frostproof isn’t exactly the most exciting place on the planet. It’s just this tiny little town in the belly button of Florida, right in the middle of a bunch of orange groves. The town’s website likes to point out that it’s a short distance from Legoland (if you call an hour and a half drive through the middle of nowhere short.) But really, the orange groves are all it has going for it. In the spring when the orange blossoms bloom, the whole place smells amazing.