Reign or Shine Read Online Free Page A

he wanted to take me to this other dimension to meet him."
    "A demon king," she repeated.
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    "Yeah." When she didn't say anything for a moment, I prompted, "Melinda?"
    "This sounds too crazy to even come from a crazy guy. Besides, the guy in the cafeteria looked like a loser, but not a crazy loser."
    "I don't know what to do."
    She paused. "You know what I think this is?"
    "What?"
    "I think somebody's playing a practical joke on you. It's probably Chris's friends. They know that he asked you out and they're--"
    "Trying to scare me to death?" I managed. "You real y think that's al this is?"
    "Did he try to hurt you?"
    I held the phone so tightly my fingers were numb. "No."
    "And where is he now? Stil outside?"
    I pul ed at the curtains and peeked out again. Michael was gone. I scanned what I could see of the dark street but saw nothing. "I can't see him anymore."
    "Figures. Maybe Chris found out and cal ed the guy off."
    The panic was quickly stepping to the side to make way for a seething annoyance. "Wel , I don't find it very funny."
    "They got me once. And trust me, it wasn't funny either, but they didn't mean any harm by it." There was silence for a moment. "But cal the cops if you think
    it'l make you feel better. It would serve them right."
    I checked the driveway again. Nothing. Michael was gone. "If he was stil out there, I would, but now I'l just come off as a paranoid teenager."
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    "You okay now?" "I'm okay."
    "Good. Now forget about the crazy loser guy. You have to tel me everything that happened with you and Chris." So I did.
    I talked to her for ten minutes about the dance--and her date and what she was planning to wear--until I felt better. After I hung up the phone, I figured I'd get
    started on my studying. I was so mad that I'd al owed myself to believe Michael's stupid joke. That jerk was probably laughing right now at how gul ible I was.
    Other dimensions. Sure.
    I wondered why I hadn't thought of it myself without Melinda's help, as I shakily walked through the dark and silent house and up the staircase to my bedroom. Lining the wal s were framed covers of my mom's romance novels. Being married and divorced multiple times hadn't done much to change the fact that she was a hopeless romantic and she loved to talk about--and write about--being in love. My father had never been part of those conversations,
    though.
    My eyes narrowed at the thought of my father. If I did have the chance to someday meet the man who had left her alone, I'd have several choice things to say to him, none of which was, "Nice to meet you, Daddy."
    Demon king.
    I was sure he was a demon, al right. But of the purely human variety.
    By this time, the envelope Michael had given me was al
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    wrinkled up, and I threw it on my bed along with my backpack. My stomach was churning and I stil had my headache.
    I wondered what the point of the practical joke had been--other than just messing with me. I was supposed to read this note and then go with him.
    Where
    was he going to take me? Or would he have come clean about everything before that?
    Not to mention, how did he even know that I'd never met my father before? That was inside information I didn't share with just anyone.
    Strange.
    On the other hand, what if the letter was from my father after al ? I was sure he was out there somewhere in the world. When not imagining that he was
    dead, I would imagine that he was in jail. That's probably where he was. And now if he was writing to me ... maybe it was to borrow some money.
    Maybe he had some mob bosses after him, wanting to break his kneecaps unless he came through with cold, hard cash.

    Yeah, that made total sense.
    I was sure he was a bad guy. What kind of person would abandon his unborn child? And leave a beautiful woman like my mom?
    I frowned. What was I even thinking? The envelope wasn't from him at al . I was total y obsessing.
    Just a practical joke. Right?
    If that was the case, then why were my arms crossed so tightly that I