Audition & Subtraction Read Online Free

consider contributing to our dairy fund?”
    Her brows knit together. “What’s that?”
    â€œWell,” he said, a serious expression on his face, “we spend hours with instruments in our mouths, and it’s really hard on our teeth. In fact, it can cause horrible disfigurement.” He flashed her a smile that showed off his braces. “See what I mean?”
    Her lips twitched at the corners.
    He nudged me, and I opened my mouth, pointing to the metal retainer glued to my bottom teeth—the remains of two years of dental torture.
    The twitch turned into a smile.
    Aaron folded his hands together and went on. “Scientists, working around the clock to help save band members across the country, have discovered that large doses of dairy products could strengthen teeth and prevent this horrible plague.”
    A grin had worked its way across her face. “A plague, huh?”
    Aaron nodded. “It’s worse than plaque.”
    The lady laughed. So did I. That was pretty quick, even for Aaron.
    â€œFortunately, there’s a Baskin-Robbins over there,” he finished.
    She shook her head, but she pulled a dollar from her bag. “Cute. Very cute. You should go into sales.”
    Aaron took the dollar. “Thanks.”
    After she walked off, I grabbed the dollar from his hand. “I can’t believe you just did that!”
    â€œWhat did I tell you? Cute. Very cute.”
    I sat back and waited for the next customer, still smiling. Wait until I told Lori.
    Then I glanced her way and caught her standing on Michael’s skateboard. Lori? On a skateboard? I blinked as if I could bring her back into focus. Because Lori on a skateboard … never. At least, never before.
    A second later, Lori wobbled backward and shrieked as she fell off. The board shot out, and Michael caught it. The others all applauded.
    â€œHe’s kind of a show-off, isn’t he?” I said.
    Aaron shrugged. “Lori doesn’t seem to mind.”
    â€œShe’s supposed to be spying,” I muttered. “For me.” Only, it didn’t exactly look that way.
    A breeze swirled up out of nowhere. Aaron grabbed a loose dollar bill that fluttered in the cash box. It was awarm breeze, but I still shivered. I couldn’t help it. It made me think of something my dad used to say.
    The Winds of Change.
    It was his favorite expression when I was little. He’d hold up a finger as if to feel the breeze. As if there really were Winds of Change. And then we would move to a new state. We moved from California to Colorado to New Mexico and then to Arizona. I hated moving, hated new cities and new schools and new friends. For a long time, I didn’t understand it was because of Dad’s job as a pilot—I really thought it was the wind. Because of that, I grew up afraid of storms. Every time one came, I worried that a wind would blow in, and off we would go like some creepy version of Mary Poppins.
    Dad hadn’t held up a finger to test the breeze when he and Mom announced they were separating. But he might as well have. Everything had changed. And I hated it. I hated every threatening gust of newness.
    I watched Lori and Michael and shivered again.

Chapter 4
    In the fifty-two days since Dad had loaded two suitcases in his truck and drove off, my house had become a weird place to be.
    Except for Saturday nights.
    Every Saturday night, Lori slept over. It was the one time when things felt normal. We ordered pizza for dinner, watched movies, and stayed up late, talking.
    Tonight, Lori hadn’t come over until after dinner because she had to watch Katie, her little sister. And this afternoon, she’d gone right from the car wash to her private flute lesson. So it was after nine o’clock, and we still hadn’t talked about the day.
    Or
him.
    Finally, it was just the two of us in my room. Lori sat on the pop-up trundle, and I sat across from her, a plate of brownies I’d