Candace Knoebel Born In Flames (epub)

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.I heard him say, “Hey, I wasn’t done,” but ignored him as I turned the shower on.With a smile, I might add.He could finish up at the kitchen sink.For some reason this dream made me think of Mily, my foster mom.She did her best to take care of Fenn and me.She was supportive of us, even of the strange occurrences that always seemed to happen when I was around.As strange and as sad as it sounds, I didn’t have any memory of the time before I ended up in the foster home.I was ten, as was Fenn who was dropped off the very same day.From there, well, life just went on.We grew up, graduated, and now the two of us are on our own, trying to scrape by.Kauai, Hawaii, in the small town of Kapaa, is where amnesia chose to sink in.Rays of sunshine and seas of coconut trees helped to ease the despair that could have easily been my childhood.Fenn shouted from outside the bathroom door, “Come on Rory! We’re gonna be late…again.”I smiled.Fenn had been the one who helped me get through the worst of not knowing who I was.He was in the same boat as far as not remembering anything before the day we were dropped off—it was easily an instant connection.So when it came time to graduate and move out of Mily’s, deciding to be roommates was a nobrainer.Scalding hot water steamed the mirrors and soothed my aching skin.I focused in on the rushing sound coming from the faucet, letting it soothe my rapid mind.Somewhere between the steam and the scented bath soap, I finally found my morning peace.With a speck of discouragement, I forced myself to shut the water off.It was already my fault we were running late.I side-eyed the straightener.I guess it would be another humid-air-curled hair day for me.My hair was long and layered, and I certainly didn’t have enough time to mess with it.I took a quick glance in the mirror, rubbing some lip gloss in.My lips were of average size, not too full but not too thin.They suited my ovalshaped face.Freckles danced on both my cheeks just below my eyes.I threw on the diner’s t-shirt and a pair of worn-in jeans and felt ready to embrace the day.My real parents were out there somewhere, waiting for me to come and find them.Or at least I hoped they were.My plan was to find them whether they liked it or not.What else does an ordinary foster child have to hope for? I say foster child because I refuse to believe that I was abandoned.They simply must have forgotten where they put me.After shutting and locking the front door, I hurried down the stairs, my footsteps alerting Fenn that I was coming.“So glad you could bless me with your presence, Oh Late One,” he joked, briskly moving forward.Fenn hated being late for anything.“No one told you to wait,” I answered with a smirk as he took a deep gulp of his on-the-go morning brew.He pulled off the diner’s t-shirt and well-worn jeans so much better than I did.His hair however was still in sleep mode, disheveled and out of place which wasn’t uncommon for him.And yet, somehow it added to his blue-eyed charming dreaminess.I don’t know why he was in a rush; he was scheduled for a double today, on a Sunday of all days.That meant that I would most likely pick up an extra shift.We were trying to scrape up as much money as we could before making our first attempt at finding each other’s birth parents.For the time being, our money came from a little diner called Paradise Diner where tourists and local blue-collar workers supported us.The constant traffic had landed the local fish fry a feature on TV.I was nothing but grateful for the funds that rolled in with the diners fame.“Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to work we go,” I chanted sarcastically, squinting into the morning sun.We took the local bus to and from everywhere in town.It was the perfect means of transportation for us.A car would have been nice, but we were fostered, working on minimum wage and living in a small town.We couldn’t really hold our expectations too high.The town was small enough that the commute only lasted between twenty and thirty minutes.It beat walking.We reached the bus stop underneath the clear morning sky and I slumped into the far end of the bench, trying to ignore the fidgety man waiting next to me.He clutched an old faded denim backpack to his chest in a death grip.Sheesh, I thought.I pulled my tattered baseball cap out of my purse and pushed my hair inside it.I liked to keep my hair tucked away when I was in the general public since it was ruby red and stood out against my pale skin.It helped lessen the curious stares.I noticed the man next to me, side-eyeing me through my peripheral vision.He had blotchy skin, and smelled of rubbing alcohol.A tuft of milky-white hair sat atop his head and swayed in the breeze.I wondered if the breeze picked up, would the feathery tuft float away like the seeds of a dandelion?Fenn looked back at the two of us.He shook his head, suppressing a chuckle as he watched the fidgety man squirm next to me.Strange things always seemed to occur around me.This creep was proof of that.The guy cleared his throat and straightened his back, tightening his grip on the pack, knuckles paling from skin stretched thin.There must be something important inside there [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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