Glare Ice Read Online Free Page A

weight, but it looks good on you.”
    “You looked good too,” she said. She knew he needed to hear that. He was a handsome man and loved to hear her tell him how fine he looked. Women loved to look at him.
    “Thanks, baby. What’re you doing?”
    She hated that he always called her baby. Why couldn’t he ever use her real name? “Not much. Haven’t gone to work since you stopped by.”
    “Why not?” he asked, sounding surprised.
    “Because I look like shit.”
    “Why do you say that, baby?”
    She couldn’t help it. She was getting mad. “You saw to that. A big black eye, bruises all over my face. Can’t go to work looking like that. All your fault.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought you looked fine when I left.”
    She hated it when he did that, denied what he had done. “What’re you talking about, Jack? You beat me up good. Choked me. Why do you pretend that nothing happened? Do you think I made it up?”
    Silence. Not a good sign. Then he said, “You know I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you too much for that. But I’ll tell you one thing, if I ever did beat you up, you wouldn’t be alive to talk about it.”
    She recognized the signs. His voice was getting lower. He was getting mad—she could hear it. It was time to get off the phone before she said something to really provoke him. “I gotta go, Jack.”
    “Why’s that? Is that boyfriend coming over? I wouldn’t count on him, baby. You never know what might happen.”

3
    M EG knew he would be back in to talk to her in a moment or two. She determined not to cry. She was a big girl, and that never helped anything. Except sometimes with Mom. Mom hated to see her cry, but Meg did reserve it as a weapon of last choice. She heard Mr. Turner’s footsteps echoing down the hallway. Like clock ticks, they were even and steady and would not turn back.
    Mr. Turner was her fifth-grade teacher. She had never had a man teacher before and had really been looking forward to it. There was something more adult about being taught by a man. He had dark, spiky hair, long legs, and hairy eyebrows. Some of the girls thought he was cute. Meg thought he looked like a smooth-talking devil.
    She hadn’t at first. She had liked him like everyone else. But then he started picking on her. He didn’t want her to read in class when she was done with the assignments. All her other teachers had always let her read in class. It was the only way she had gotten through school so far. Otherwise it would have been too dull and boring waiting for everyone else to finish. But the first time she had tried to read, Mr. Turner had taken her book away and asked her to clean the blackboards for him.
    When she tried again, he had taken her out into the hallway and talked to her. “This is a school classroom where we do schoolwork. If you are finished with the work I have given you, then I want you to raise your hand, and I will give you some more work to do. Or better yet, check over your work. If you are doing it so fast, there are probably mistakes you should correct.”
    Meg hadn’t taken either of his suggestions. Instead, she had done the only thing left to do. She had slowed down. She was doing the work as slow as she could, and it was killing her. Boredom weighed her down like a ton of bricks. That’s what had gotten her in to trouble this time. She had been so bored that her eyelids had closed, her head had dropped onto her desk, and she had fallen asleep. Mr. Turner had woken her up by tapping the top of her head with a pencil. She had jumped and given a little shriek. The whole class had laughed. He had asked her to stay after class when it was time for recess.
    She sat at her desk and stared down at a small mole on her arm. It was about the size of a ladybug. Wouldn’t it be cool if it started to move around her arm? She could have a pet mole. She laughed at her own joke just as Mr. Turner walked in the door.
    “Can you let me in on