Free Super Secret Series (Book 1): Super Model by Princess Jones

I didn’t know where that came from.
    “Where?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “Yes. You are my daughter. I should know what’s going on with you. I should know what your plans are. I should be included in these decisions.”
    “I’ll figure it out on my own.” I scowled at her. “I want to be on my own. I don’t want to be smothered all of the time. I don’t want you texting me about when I’m going to be home. I don’t want you to tracking my every move. I think it’s time for you to get a hobby or something.”
    Mom looked like I’d slapped her. And in a way I felt like I had. But I said what needed to be said. I just wanted to be away from her. “Can I go to my room now?”
    “Go.” I stomped toward my room but Mom stopped me before I got there. “Penny?”
    I didn’t even turn around to face her. “What?”
    “I don’t want to hear any more lies from you. If you can’t tell me the truth, just don’t say anything to me at all.”

Chapter 15
    The next time I saw Mom was at breakfast. She was doing her usual thing but she set my food down in front on me without even making eye contact, let alone speaking. It was awkward and weird. But I wasn’t surprised by any of it.
    We’d never had a fight like that. This was beyond grounding me or taking my phone away. I knew I’d hurt her feelings. But I wasn’t ready to apologize. Instead I spent all of Saturday and most of Sunday in my room, alternating between watching Golden Girls reruns and trying to force myself to be psychic by practicing with the cards.
    On Sunday, Jeannie called out because she had an emergency and I found myself volunteering to take her shift that evening. For the past week, I’d been too busy making up nonexistent friends and study groups to work in the diner after school. I was still feeling guilty about the fight and about slacking off. Mom accepted my offer without comment and went upstairs for the night.
    Sunday evenings were generally slow but I kept myself busy. We didn’t have any problems and by 8:30PM, I was ready to shut down. I started to clean up while the last couple finished their meal in the corner table.
    I dropped the check on the lovebirds and gave them a look that I hoped said that I was ready to close up. Then I set up the half-empty ketchup, salt, and pepper holders on an unused table so I could fill them up.
    “Marrying” the condiments had to be done once a day. Before I started officially helping out in the diner, I would come down before bed and do the condiments with my dad. I could still remember him giving me the goofy explanation of the term. “Well when one ketchup and another ketchup love each other. . . and are half empty. . . they share ketchup to become one ketchup. . .” Then he’d position one ketchup over the other and wiggle his eyebrows. It was a lame attempt at humor but it made me laugh every time.
    As I worked, my mind was free to wander. Considering everything that had been happening, I had plenty of distance to cover. Just seven days ago, I’d been eaten up by the idea that my father’s unfinished business would stay that way. And now, I had a Big Super, a telepathic test, and a growing ulcer to go with it. But at least I had a shot. I didn’t know whether to throw up or to jump for joy.
    The lovebirds in the corner paid their check and made their way out of the diner. “Have a nice night, guys. Thanks,” I called after them. I flipped the sign to “Closed” and took the money over to the register. As I was counting down the change from the bill to put into the tip jar, the bells over the door jangled.
    Ugh. I forgot to lock the stupid door.
    “Sorry, we’re closed,” I said without looking up. “But we open tomo—” I choked on the words and never finished the sentence. Miss Fine was standing in doorway of the diner.
    She walked over to the counter right across from the register, where I stood frozen in place. “That’s fine. I’ll make it quick,” she said, taking a