Damaged: A Violated Trust (Secrets) Read Online Free

dresser, I see the light blue Bible sitting there, almost like it’s waiting for me to pick it up and read it. But whether it’s because of the way my mom has used her Bible as a sword, hacking into Dad and me and anyone else who disagrees with her, or because I’m simply feeling rebellious, I pick up the Good Book and shove it into the bottom drawer, burying it beneath some old jeans before I slam the door closed.
    I so do not want to become my mother! I don’t want to look down on my dad — I do not want to judge or criticize him. And when I meet his girlfriend, Stella — or whatever her name is — tomorrow, I will act totally cool, like I’m completely comfortable with whatever their relationship might be. Even if they make out on the couch or even go to bed together at the end of the day, I am not going to react.
    As I go into the hall bathroom, my own personal bathroom — well, at least until Dad has guests (like his girlfriend) — I decide to adopt a new grown-up way of thinking. As I arrange my things on the counter, lining them up nice and neat, and as I brush my teeth, I decide my philosophy will become laissez-faire. It’s something I remember from last year’s history class. It’s usually a political or economic term, French for “let it be” or something to that effect. But from now on I will do just that. I will let it be. I will live and let live. And I suspect that my dad will be greatly relieved by this. Hopefully my mother will never know.

...[CHAPTER 3].................
     
    I don’t know why I couldn’t sleep in late this morning, especially after not sleeping too well last night. Maybe it was the sunlight pouring through my east-facing window. Or maybe it was the call of the swimming pool down below. But at a little past nine, I’m in my swimsuit, wrapped in a beach towel, and, with my key in hand, heading downstairs for a morning swim.
    It’s weird, because I definitely have a spring in my step. It’s like I’m in a different world today. I’m here in sunny California and it feels like I just came back to summer. Oregon in mid-October can be beautiful … or it can be gloomy and gray. When I left, it was damp and dreary … and a little depressing.
    I test the temperature of the water, and seeing that it’s comfortable, I drop my towel on a chair and dive in. Naturally, the water feels colder on my body than it did on my foot, but after a few strokes, I’m acclimated — and it feels good, refreshing, invigorating. I feel more alive right now than I’ve felt in a long time.
    I used to be on swim team. Until I developed curves. That’s when Mom decided it was “indecent to go around in a skimpy team suit for all those teenage boys to gawk at,” but I still love to swim. Who knows, maybe I’ll look into it again at my new school. Although I’m afraid I’d be too out of shape to really compete without too much humiliation.
    Despite being out of shape, I easily swim for about an hour. Then I find a nice sunny spot where I park myself on a chaise lounge and soak up some sun, even falling asleep for a while.
    When I wake up, I’m toasty warm and very thirsty. The clock on the fence says it’s getting close to eleven and I’m guessing Dad might be up by now. I head back upstairs, unlock the door, and come into the condo in time to see a tangle of arms and legs on the black leather sofa. It takes me a couple of seconds before I realize it’s my dad — and a blonde!
    I turn my head away and, without saying a word, hurry past them. I’m not sure if they even saw me or not. With a pounding heart, I remind myself of my new laissez-faire attitude. Let it go, I tell myself as I turn on the shower. Live and let live. But, cheese whiz, I think as I vigorously shampoo my hair, why couldn’t they take their little act behind closed doors? As I apply conditioner, I wonder about Stella or whatever her name is — how old is she? I swear she looked about my age, but then I couldn’t