Fire & Flood

Начало книги

If my hair gets any frizzier, I’ll shave it to the scalp.

Or light it on fire.

Whichever is easier.

I stare at my reflection in the pond and run my hands through the bane of my existence. For a moment, I seem victorious, my chestnut curls wrangled into submission. But when I drop my arms, the curls spring out, worse for the wear. I point an unmanicured finger at the water. “I hate your face.”

“Tella,” my mother yells from behind me, “what are you looking at?”

I spin around and grab a handful of my hair. Exhibit A.

“It’s beautiful,” she says.

“You did this to me,” I tell her.

“No, your father gave you curly hair.”

“But you dragged me to Middle of Nowhere, Montana, as a sick experiment to see just how hideous I could become.”

Mom leans against the door frame of our craptastic house and nearly grins. “We’ve been here almost a year. When are you going to accept that this is our home?”

I walk toward her and punch a closed fist into the air. “I’ll fight to the death.”

Читать дальше →