The Unofficial Zack Warren Fan Club Read Online Free

hall to the bare living room. My sneakers squeaked on the terracotta tile. I swear my breathing echoed around me. The space felt ten times bigger without my mom’s ginormous couches and stone coffee table.
    A cave with skylights and built-in shelving.
    I groaned, wishing this was a bad dream. That we came home to find our house had been robbed, everything taken, right down to the last dust bunny.
    It wasn’t a dream and we haven’t been robbed.
    My mom came to stand next to me and sniffed, just as sad.
    “I guess this is it, Chloe.” She could pass for my older sister. We had the same silky straight hair and hazel eyes. Although she was five-eight, I got the short end of the family genes and barely hit five-three.
    “Yep,” I crossed my arms, following her out the front door. The sound of it closing behind us felt so final, ominous. We stepped off the porch and I wanted to protest. Chain myself to the railing with a sign saying: Hell no, I won’t go!
    “This is going to be fun, a great adventure.” Mom said. I didn’t agree, not even a little. Hiking up a volcano, dog sledding, swimming with sharks—those are adventures and this wasn’t my idea of fun.
    I shoved my hands in my pockets and followed her down the front path we slaved over to lay the pavers perfectly last summer. If I’d known we’d be selling it wouldn’t have been a priority.
    I eyed the edge of our driveway with unconcealed hatred.
    Two gigantic moving vans waited, packed to the point of exploding. Mom’s blue Mini Cooper was hitched up to the back of the first van, a prisoner.
    “Hey, honey, were all set.” Mom giggled, meeting her new husband halfway down the drive.
    “Excellent!” Glenn kissed her. He was tall, bald by choice, and had unnaturally blue eyes. For a forty year old guy he wasn’t too bad looking…except he reminded me a little of Mr. Clean. He even had an earring in his left ear.
    Glenn and met my mom at the grocery store eight months ago. After a long conversation about how much they both hated broccoli—which I’m sure was packed with innuendo—they eloped.
    How could my mom say no?
    Especially when the rock he presented her with sparkled so darn much you had to shield your eyes. That sucker could land a plane.
    My mom deserved a happy ever after. I could see her wanting to be wedded blissfully after her first sucky marriage.
    She had me at the tender age of sixteen. By seventeen she and my dad, Vince, attended their very own shotgun wedding.
    Vince seemed like a real winner then. He was the star of the debate team and ran an underground gambling club. What more could a teenage girl want?
    Lots more.
    Vince grew up to be the slimy car salesman you avoided on a used car lot, right down to the gold pinky ring and oily hair. He was king of the creepers, and could talk a blind man into buying a Buick.
    Thankfully, he ran off eight years ago with a German sausage maker turned model named Helga.
    Mom is super happy now, and I really liked Glenn. In fact, I liked him more than my own father. But before they went to Vegas to say I do in front of Elvis, mom sat me down to have a talk.
    This is never good, whenever your parent shows up at your dorm on a Saturday asks you to sit for a conversation. Why couldn’t she just call? Why did she drive almost half way across the state to me for a conversation?
    So I prepared myself for the bad news…
    “Honey,” mom said in her sweetest voice on that fateful day two weeks ago, sitting slowly across from me, as if any loud noises or sudden movement might cause me to have a coronary. “Glenn bought a house. It’s closer to his job, and a lot bigger.”
    “Good for Glenn,” he wouldn’t be moving into our house and junking it up with all his golf clubs and guy stuff. Even though I wasn’t home all that much anymore. When I did go back, our space would be clean. “I’ll make a banner for the going away party.”
    “He bought it for me as a wedding present.” She sent me a