Free The Seventh Sister, A Paranormal Romance by Z. L. Arkadie

I’m very curious to know the answer to this because I too have strange biological workings in this department.
    “No, I never have to do that.”
    “Oh,” I say. I can feel my brows pulling again. I don’t know if I should reveal this to him. Then, everyone else seems to pour out their guts to him, why not me? “I’m pretty limited in that department too. I mean, I can go but barely. Not often at all.”
    “I know,” he offers up.
    “You do?”
    “I told you, you’re not human. Well not fully a human.”
    I nod consecutively, again pondering what he just revealed to me. I haven’t started my “period” either. The only reason I know I’m supposed to get one is because I’ve heard other girls talk about it. I’m supposed to bleed each month for five days. There are cramps involved, moodiness I heard and stomach bloating. I have none of that, and I’m a fully developed woman.
    I’m seventeen years old, but I’m not built that way or look that way. The girls at my school look so much younger, so girlish. Even Riley Simms. I’m sure that’s why I never take her serious. She’s like a kid who doesn’t know any better. I’m like a freak of nature who doesn’t belong in this environment with others who are my biological age.
    This is my last and final year of high school. After graduation, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m not looking forward to college. I am looking forward to being in control of my own life, which will involve moving far away from Moonridge.
    Snow flurries start to sprinkle down upon us from the sky, which reminds me how cold it is out here.
    “I guess I should get home. Homework,” I say.
    “Okay,” he says, but there’s hesitancy in his demeanor.
    “What?” I ask.
    “Nothing—I’ll see you tomorrow?”
    I swallow hard. I’m not sure what I want right now. This is so very bizarre. I don’t want him to go away. I want to do something like touch him or kiss him.
    “Yes,” I quickly say and look away from him to hurry up and get inside of my jeep.
    Once I’m inside he taps on the window. I roll it down.
    “Are you driving or walking tomorrow?”
    I look down at the shoes on my feet and the fitted jeans I’m wearing. “Definitely walking,” I say, because I will never wear anything like what I have on ever, never ever , again.
    “I’ll see you in the morning then,” he says and walks off.
    I watch him through my rearview mirror.
    I wonder where he’s going .

Chapter 5

    The Selell

    When I get home and walk through the front door, I half way expect to discover Deanna here, but nope, she’s still away. I go into the kitchen to see if there’s a message on the machine, there are two.
    I have to stop off in Manhattan. I’ll see you soon . It’s Deanna.
    I shake my head, disappointed. At what point should I dig deep within myself and confess that I miss my mother. My eyes tear up and since there’s no one around, I allow them to fall.
    After swiping the tears from my cheek, I check the next message. There’s nothing but static. I delete the second message and save the first.
    The machine tells me that’s the twentieth saved message and warns me to clear the box because it’s reaching the limit. That’s three years of saved messages from my mother, and I’m still reluctant to delete them. I guess I’m waiting until I reach the limit, wondering if I’ll ever reach the max.
    The next big thing I have to do is strip out of the outfit I’m wearing. After kicking off the ankle boots, I ceremoniously peel off the jeans and sweater and throw on the first pair of pajama bottoms I dig out of the drawer and an old faded gray tee-shirt. Gosh, that feels freeing .
    I then prance off, heading back into the kitchen to mix up a salad. After pouring myself a glass of water, I take my dinner into the living room where I curl up against the arm of the sofa to eat and read The Great Gatsby .
    The hours tick away and by the time I reach page two hundred it’s midnight.