Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“That’s going to bruise, you know that right?” Stacey tells me, showing me a red mark on her shin. “Not cool, Connie. You’re too old to be throwing tantrums and hitting people.”
“Says who?” I bite back.
She huffs, frustrated. “Apologize.”
“I’m sorry you’re a baby.”
“Connie…” David is also using a tone. “This ain’t like you. Don’t be spoiling your good behavior or you won’t get your tablet this weekend.”
My cheeks flame as they all stare at me. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yes you did,” Stacey insists and bends to my level. I hate it when she does this, it always means she’s about to explain something and try make me learn something I don’t wanna learn. “You know you did and that’s not nice. You really hurt me back there.”
“You wouldn’t let me go.”
She presses her lips together, stands to full height and looks at the giant and his lady. “She’s embarrassed, she gets stubborn when she’s embarrassed.”
“Sounds like somebody else I know,” the lady utters, and I decide I like her voice and accent.
“Watch it,” the man with the big arms and chest snaps but he’s smiling at her. Why do they look at each other like that? It’s all gooey eyed and weird.
My last parents didn’t look at each other like that, they mostly just ignored each other from what I can remember.
“Why don’t we go back into the room?” David suggests and I notice some of the girls sitting on the stairs watching the exchange.
“Connie is such a brat,” Ellie, one of the older girls says with a roll of her eyes. I glare at her and stick out my tongue.
I am not a brat. I just don’t like people very much.
“And you smell like feet!”
“Okay,” David calls and steers me back the way we just came. “Let’s carry this on in the meeting room. You can draw us a picture, Connie. Show off your mad skills.”
“I don’t much feel like drawing.” I lift myself up into the chair at the end of the table and swing my legs, the toes of my shoes just skim the ground. I’m not short, these chairs are just real big.
David slides a blank sketchpad my way and my favorite pack of crayons. I hate that they know what crayons I like to us.
“Immy can draw,” the big man says, sitting in the seat two down. His lady, aka Immy, sits to my left between us. “She’s real good. You got her talent?”
“I can’t draw,” I respond, pushing the pad away but secretly I really want to show them something I’ve done, and I really want to see what she can do.
She pulls the pad her way. “You like unicorns?”
“I like zombies.”
“Me too,” the big man growls. His voice is so rough and deep. I bet he’s good at telling stories. Bet I could make him tell me one.
No, because spending time with people makes you like them and then love them. Like Stacey. I feel bad that I hurt her because I like her. She’s nice to me most of the time. But when she changes her job she’ll leave, so I don’t love her, so I don’t spend time with her. It’s simple people math.
“Well I draw the best zombies,” Immy says with a soft smile and I can see tears in her eyes. “How do we like them? The crazy virus kind, or the melting skin kind?”
“Guts everywhere,” I tell her, feeling kind of into it now. “Guts and gore.”
“Let’s try and keep this child friendly,” David prompts nervously but Immy either doesn’t hear him, or she doesn’t listen on purpose. The big guy winks at me when my eyes drift his way.
“I’m Kane by the way.”
“I know,” I respond.
“You keep lookin’ at me like you want to say somethin’. Thought maybe you’d forgotten my name.”
I chew on my lip and then let them part. “How’d you get so big? Because Stacey said if I eat my greens I’ll get big and strong, but I don’t wanna get that big. I think I might stop eatin’ broccoli.”
He chuckles and Immy laughs at her drawing.
“Nice try, kid. You’ve still got to eat your veg.” Stacey snaps, winking at me from across the room. “David.”
David looks her way with a happy sparkle in his eyes.
“I’ve got to sort the other girls. Do you need me here?”
He shakes his head at her and she mouths at me before leaving, “Be nice.”
I scrunch my nose up at her.
“Getting arms like his and shoulders like his comes from lifting some really heavy stuff every day and eating right. You gotta work for a body like that, it doesn’t just happen,” Immy explains, looking at me with those soft eyes again. She slides the drawing my way and my jaw hits the desk with a clatter. It’s a really good zombie, way better than anything I could ever draw. “You like it?”