Geek High Read Online Free Page B

grown-up!”
    â€œRichard,” Peyton said. “This…creature can’t stay in the house.” She pointed an accusing beige-lacquered nail at Willow.
    â€œWhat? Oh, Miranda’s dog? Of course he’s going to stay inside! He’s part of the family now,” my dad said.
    â€œShe,” I corrected him. “Her name is Willow.”
    â€œRight. Willow. Hannah, why don’t you show Miranda and Willow up to their room,” Dad suggested. “And then, once you’re settled in, come down and have some breakfast with us, honey. Peyton and I can’t wait to catch up with you.”
    Yeah, right , I thought, as I caught sight of the sour look on Peyton’s face. The only thing the Demon wants to know about me is when I’m moving out.

    That night I couldn’t fall asleep. I just lay there in the unfamiliar bed, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the house, while I thought about Sadie leaving, and school starting tomorrow, and how whenever Peyton looked at me, her lips pursed up as though she’d bitten into a Sour Patch Kids candy.
    This is what it must be like to be Charlie , I thought, restlessly kicking at the bedsheets that were twisting uncomfortably around my legs.
    My best friend, Charlie, has chronic insomnia. She goes through manic periods where she doesn’t sleep for days—she just stays up all night painting. And then when she does finally sleep, she stays in bed all day long. She used to take medication to even out her moods, but she said it sapped her artistic creativity, and she stopped taking it. And her parents have this hippie, antimedication philosophy, so they let her do it. Although sometimes, when Charlie’s been up for three days straight, and is talking so fast the words are tripping on their way out of her mouth, I have to admit I question her parents’ judgment on that call.
    Sadie’s tried-and-true method for falling asleep is to wash down several peanut butter–smeared Ritz crackers with a glass of cold milk. It had always worked for me in the past, so I tossed the comforter aside, slid out of bed, opened the bedroom door, and padded down the hallway.
    I reached the foyer and took a left. The marble tile felt cold and hard beneath my bare feet. I had just reached the door to the kitchen and was about to walk through it when I heard voices: Dad and Peyton were in there. I quickly stepped back before they saw me. I had no interest in another uncomfortable conversation with my dad, who seemed intent on pretending that we had a great father-daughter relationship, or enduring another of Peyton’s narrow-eyed, nostril-flaring stares. I was just turning, about to retreat back to the guest room, when I heard my name.
    â€œThis must be hard on Miranda, what with her mother just up and leaving,” Dad said. “I honestly don’t know what Sadie was thinking.”
    I froze, listening intently.
    â€œShe obviously wasn’t thinking. Face it, the woman is a flake,” Peyton said.
    Anger burned in my throat, and my hands clenched into fists. How dared the Demon call Sadie names? It was one thing for me to complain about Sadie’s flakiness, but an entirely different matter altogether when Peyton did it.
    â€œI don’t see why, just because she decides to go tooting off to England, we should have to turn our lives upside down,” Peyton continued. “For God’s sake, she didn’t even check with us first.”
    â€œI thought you were happy that Miranda was staying with us,” Dad said.
    What on earth gave him that idea? I wondered. Peyton practically hissed every time I walked in the room.
    â€œOh, I am,” Peyton said, sounding completely insincere.
    Yeah, right , I thought.
    â€œIt’s just…Miranda…well, she’s just a bit…odd,” Peyton said.
    My face flamed, and my stomach felt pinched and sour. I knew Peyton