Soul Kiss Read Online Free Page B
Author: Scarlett Jacobs, Neil S. Plakcy
outside and we turned on the lights, and then my mom stuck her head in the door and said, "Dinner, kids."
"I'm just warning you," I said, as we shut down the computers. "My brother has all these food allergies so dinner is probably going to be weird."
And of course, just to make me look totally crazy, dinner was exceedingly normal: turkey breast, sweet potato casserole, steamed asparagus. My dad made the mistake of trying to engage Daniel in conversation, and that was that--it was like somebody flipped a switch in the kid and he went to town.
When he found out my dad worked in advertising he started talking about all these ads he had seen and what he thought of them, and my dad was just eating it up. For once, Robbie and I exchanged matching looks, like who was this geek ?
We even had chocolate mousse for dessert, which is like my total favorite, but I still spent the whole meal cringing inside.
"This was really wonderful, Mrs. Torani," Daniel said, when we were finishing dessert. "My mom doesn't get a chance to cook big meals much, and when she does it's mostly Cuban comfort food, arroz con pollo , rice and beans and that kind of thing."
"Is that where your family is from?" my mother asked. "Cuba?"
He nodded. "We left when I was six. I just did one year of school in Cienfuegos. I was just finished when my mom came home one day and said we were moving."
"That's when you came to the United States?"
He shook his head. "We went on a boat to Grand Cayman, an island west of Cuba. My mom won't tell me the details, but I think she was running away from something."
We were all quiet for a minute, until my mom said, "And how did you come to live in Pennsylvania?"
"We move around a lot," he said. "From Grand Cayman we went to Tampa for a while, then Mississippi, then Tennessee. We were in Massachusetts last year but it was just too cold."
After dinner my dad walked outside with Daniel, and from my bedroom window I saw him try to give Daniel some money, which Daniel refused. Then he came back into the house and called, "Melissa? Daniel doesn't have a car. Why don't you give him a ride home? It's the least we can do to thank him."
I was torn. I love to drive and I never get to. I just got my real license a couple of months ago and my parents are totally afraid I'll smash up the car or something. But driving Daniel? No way.
I groaned. I knew that if I refused, my father would drive him home, and God knows what kind of trouble that could cause. "Sure, Dad," I said.
"You can take my car," he said, tossing me his keys.
Well, that was cool. Usually the only car I could drive was the mom-mobile, the big hulking SUV. Dad's car was low-slung and sporty. Mom called it his mid-life crisis car, but I never understood why. I mean, if you could drive a cool sports car, why wouldn't you?
The only bad thing was that the seats were really close together. As Daniel slid in next to me, I felt his body heat. When I put my hand on the gearshift to back out, it brushed against his leg, and I pulled back as if I'd been electrocuted.
"Sweet car," he said. "Your parents are very nice."
"Yeah, well, they just look that way from the outside," I said, concentrating on backing out of the driveway without hitting the mailbox. Don't ask.
"Where do you live?" I asked.
"You can just take me back to ComputerCo."
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm taking you home."
"I kind of live near the store," he said.
"No probs."
Years of riding the late bus home from extra-curricular activities had given me intimate knowledge of the back roads between Stewart's Crossing and Levittown, and even though it was dark and the roads were curvy, I relaxed as we left suburbia for the farm country.
"It was nice of you to come over," I said finally. "I didn't know that trick about setting up the online backups before."
"I know I talk too much," he blurted out. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I blabber myself sometimes. Especially if I get nervous."
He nodded. "It's tough, always
"I'm just warning you," I said, as we shut down the computers. "My brother has all these food allergies so dinner is probably going to be weird."
And of course, just to make me look totally crazy, dinner was exceedingly normal: turkey breast, sweet potato casserole, steamed asparagus. My dad made the mistake of trying to engage Daniel in conversation, and that was that--it was like somebody flipped a switch in the kid and he went to town.
When he found out my dad worked in advertising he started talking about all these ads he had seen and what he thought of them, and my dad was just eating it up. For once, Robbie and I exchanged matching looks, like who was this geek ?
We even had chocolate mousse for dessert, which is like my total favorite, but I still spent the whole meal cringing inside.
"This was really wonderful, Mrs. Torani," Daniel said, when we were finishing dessert. "My mom doesn't get a chance to cook big meals much, and when she does it's mostly Cuban comfort food, arroz con pollo , rice and beans and that kind of thing."
"Is that where your family is from?" my mother asked. "Cuba?"
He nodded. "We left when I was six. I just did one year of school in Cienfuegos. I was just finished when my mom came home one day and said we were moving."
"That's when you came to the United States?"
He shook his head. "We went on a boat to Grand Cayman, an island west of Cuba. My mom won't tell me the details, but I think she was running away from something."
We were all quiet for a minute, until my mom said, "And how did you come to live in Pennsylvania?"
"We move around a lot," he said. "From Grand Cayman we went to Tampa for a while, then Mississippi, then Tennessee. We were in Massachusetts last year but it was just too cold."
After dinner my dad walked outside with Daniel, and from my bedroom window I saw him try to give Daniel some money, which Daniel refused. Then he came back into the house and called, "Melissa? Daniel doesn't have a car. Why don't you give him a ride home? It's the least we can do to thank him."
I was torn. I love to drive and I never get to. I just got my real license a couple of months ago and my parents are totally afraid I'll smash up the car or something. But driving Daniel? No way.
I groaned. I knew that if I refused, my father would drive him home, and God knows what kind of trouble that could cause. "Sure, Dad," I said.
"You can take my car," he said, tossing me his keys.
Well, that was cool. Usually the only car I could drive was the mom-mobile, the big hulking SUV. Dad's car was low-slung and sporty. Mom called it his mid-life crisis car, but I never understood why. I mean, if you could drive a cool sports car, why wouldn't you?
The only bad thing was that the seats were really close together. As Daniel slid in next to me, I felt his body heat. When I put my hand on the gearshift to back out, it brushed against his leg, and I pulled back as if I'd been electrocuted.
"Sweet car," he said. "Your parents are very nice."
"Yeah, well, they just look that way from the outside," I said, concentrating on backing out of the driveway without hitting the mailbox. Don't ask.
"Where do you live?" I asked.
"You can just take me back to ComputerCo."
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm taking you home."
"I kind of live near the store," he said.
"No probs."
Years of riding the late bus home from extra-curricular activities had given me intimate knowledge of the back roads between Stewart's Crossing and Levittown, and even though it was dark and the roads were curvy, I relaxed as we left suburbia for the farm country.
"It was nice of you to come over," I said finally. "I didn't know that trick about setting up the online backups before."
"I know I talk too much," he blurted out. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I blabber myself sometimes. Especially if I get nervous."
He nodded. "It's tough, always
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