Free Deceived by Julie Anne Lindsey Page B

shrugged.
    She looked at the ceiling and made a face that said “blah.” She turned to look at him, and I did, too.
    He watched us.
    I was suddenly hypersensitive to his every move. I loved and hated the exhilaration he brought.
    He raised his bottle toward her and winked.
    “Agh.” She looked at me, thoroughly disappointed. “Come on!” She wrote on the paper and then crumbled it into a ball.
    She was done with me for now.
    I looked at him one more time while I still had the nerve, but he was busy texting beside his stack of books. I went back to organizing my thoughts in my journal. When my pen died, I was forced to dig around inside my backpack for another. There was a neatly folded scrap of paper I didn’t recognize. Flipping it open, a number I didn’t know stared back at me.
    “Pixie?” I whispered.
    She glanced at the teacher, then me. He was involved in Golf Digest .
    “Did Darcy get that job working in the office?”

Chapter Seven
    After dinner, I excused myself from Pixie’s company and headed back to the library under the guise of my Sociology assignment, though it wouldn’t be my name I researched. I planned to find a favorite alcove there to call my own, continue my search for Brian, and maybe even look yet again into my family. I’d never found anything, but the Internet changed all the time. I couldn’t guess when a site might pop up with archived data on D.C. Smiths. My dad claimed ignorance. If I cracked either case, I’d have no doubt that courtrooms were in my future.
    My phone rang as I reached the library doors. I smiled at the number on my screen. “Hey, Dad.”
    “How’s my little girl?” His voice was like balm.
    “Good.” I leaned against the wall, waiting to go inside.
    “Listen, honey. I’m going to be in Ohio tomorrow. Can we have lunch?”
    “Why will you be in Ohio?”
    “Is that a no?” He chuckled. “Can’t a dad check in on his little girl?”
    “I mean … I have school tomorrow. Were you planning to come to the cafeteria?” Had he lost his mind? I sent up a prayer that he’d say no.
    “Right. You’re getting acclimated. Well, I’ll be in the area more. If you ever have time for your old man … ”
    His work kept him away so much. I knew I should accept any time he offered, but part of me rebelled. When I had needed him in the past, he was always off working. I had a mission now and needed to stay focused. He was the one who taught me not to need him. The reasoning had holes, but whatever.
    “I’ll call you soon.” The inflection in my voice made it sound more like a question.
    “Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Remember, if you need anything, I’ll be nearby.”
    “Thanks.” After a feeble exchange of affection, we disconnected.
    I pulled open the door and inhaled. Somewhere inside, a table, chair, and computer port had my name on them. The library brimmed with books but very few students. I had expected at least a few study groups. Only a handful of students were sprinkled around the cavernous room. I chose an oversized table and spread out my things in an alcove. No matter where I lived, the library felt like home. The familiar smells of paper, ink, worn leather, and wood soothed me like chatting with an old friend. Every librarian I had ever met shared the understated kindness trait I appreciated, too.
    I nestled into the large wooden chair and logged in. Online and in the zone, I picked up where I had fallen asleep during my first attempt. Knowing Brian was from D.C., I started digging into the papers. I looked for articles on high school sports and scholarships. When that failed miserably, I switched gears. My attempt at locating Davis’s family and their carpet business turned out fruitful. The Internet still worked. When I’d searched for Brian, either the researcher or the search had been faulty. Opening a fresh window, I Googled my mom.
    The lack of library patrons meant I didn’t have to hide my contraband. I cracked the top off the