Free Fraying at the Edge by Cindy Woodsmall Page A

delicious. She pulled eggs, cheese, and bacon out of the fridge before moving to the spice rack.
    She had everything she needed to make cinnamon french toast. Her family loved it. If Cameron had friends over again, maybe they’d enjoy a nice breakfast when they woke. So far things between Cameron and her were uncomfortable. How could they not be? Cameron whispered and snickered with her friends, and she constantly referred to Ariana as different movie characters.
    Ariana walked to the stove. It was time to win over Cameron, and a good meal would help. But the stove had no dials to turn and no burners. She studied it. There was writing inside various painted squares on a flat panel. Clock. Clean. Start. Off. It had other things too, including a number grid like a touchscreen phone.
    She pushed various spots on the panel, and blue digital symbols and numbers showed up where it had been blank moments earlier, but nothing else happened. She pushed more painted squares, hoping to find the right combination that would make this cold block of silver and black come to life. It was pretty, and it was the cleanest stove Ariana had ever seen. Unlike the lace canopy on her bed, surely the oven served a purpose. Fine. Forget the oven.
    She would simply make french toast on the stovetop. But…how did she turn it on? She pressed different squares of words this time. The stove beeped. Actually more like howled, making long shrieks that she didn’t know how to stop. More shrill beeps started coming from somewhere in the house. What had she done? She followed the beeps and discovered a book-sized electronic plastic thing on the wall that was screeching and blinking. How had pushing buttons on the oven made this thing go off? Heat burned her skin, a sure sign of once again feeling completely stupid. She pressed the red button with the outline of a home on it, and it beeped louder and faster. Perhaps she should run upstairs and get Brandi. No one could be sleeping through this anyway. As she started up the stairs, a phone rang, the noise echoing off the walls.
    The back door swung open, and Brandi and Gabe hurried inside, followed by Cameron and her friend. Brandi had on shiny, skintight pants that came just below her knees, Gabe’s sleeveless shirt was as tight as his wife’s clothing, and Cameron had on something that hardly covered her underwear. What was wrong with these people?
    Such thoughts made Ariana uncomfortable, but they came nonstop from morning to night. Would she get used to the sentiments or figure out how to stop them? A reprieve of thirty minutes would be greatly appreciated.
    Gabe grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
    Cameron stood in the doorway and studied Ariana. Now a week after they first met, she apparently still hadn’t decided whether Ariana was friend or foe, animal or human, slow witted or intelligent.
    “We went for a run.” Brandi’s eyes were wide. “Are you all right, honey?”
    Ariana nodded. “I’m fine. I…think I may have set off a couple of alarms.”
    “Ya think?” Cameron glanced at her friend, looking smug, before she moved to the stove. After confidently pressing a couple of buttons, Cameron silenced the useless thing. But another alarm, a much louder one, was still shrieking throughout the house.
    “You’re sure you’re okay?” Brandi again looked Ariana up and down.
    She wasn’t okay. She never would be again, but she nodded.
    Gabe said a few words, answering questions for whoever was on the line. His eyes centered on Ariana. “Hold on, please.” He lowered the phone to his chest. “It’s the security system people. They said the emergency button inside the house was pushed. Is everything okay?”
    “I…I guess.” Ariana shrugged. “As far as I know. I was trying to turn on the stove, and…”
    “The stove?” Gabe repeated.
    “Dad,”—Cameron rolled her eyes—“tell the guy all our secret code stuff, convince him the house hasn’t been invaded by body snatchers, and let