Brush of Shade Read Online Free

ceiling, her lower lip quivering.
    I leaned over
the side of the bed and dragged the grate over with my crutch. “Don’t worry.
I’ll fix it later. One of my old roommates at boarding school had a thing for
borrowing mementoes, so she could pretend her family gave a crap about her. I
took to stashing my stuff in a vent.”
    Aunt Claire
swallowed hard. “Your parents should’ve sent you home.”
    Did she mean
here? She must be confused. Hadn’t she left the valley right after high school
and never looked back? Things were different now. She had me, so she’d have to
stay. The sick feeling in my stomach weighed in on the matter. I hugged my
pillow to my chest.
     She
fiddled with the corner of my comforter, smoothing it into place before sitting
next to me on the side of the bed. “Principal Long seems confident that you’ll
be challenged by the curriculum. Wait till you see the list of clubs and—” She
caught up my hand as I pulled away. “One club, that’s all I ask. Please, it’s important
that you try. After all, we can’t stay cooped up in this drafty, old house
forever, kid.”
      “We?” I replied, trying to sound interested.
    “I’ve got an
interview in Gunnison for a photographer position on their local paper. It
won’t pay much and the hours could be crazy at times. I’m sorry.”
    “People hire me
to watch their kids. I’m a senior in high school. I can look after myself.”
    “Yes, of
course,” she replied.
    I picked a fuzz
ball off the perfectly serviceable maroon comforter Aunt Claire had dragged out
of a trunk in the attic. “You’re a world-famous artist. You don’t take photos
of football games and the local garden club. We should’ve stayed at my home in
D.C. Several galleries wanted to show your work and I’d already been accepted
to a couple Ivy League schools. If there’s somewhere else that you’d rather
live, it’s okay by me. It can’t be easy for you to come back to this place with
its memories.”
    “How kind and
mature of you, dear.” She shook her head. “We’re Pepperdines .
When it comes down to it, our desires come last.”
     “That’s
ridiculous. You’ve traveled all over the world. You said it was in your blood.”
    “As are other
things. It is time for them to take priority.”
    “I’m sorry
you’re stuck with me,” I said, sniffing back tears that I didn’t want to come.
    “I’m not. Don’t
you go putting wrong thoughts into your head. We’ll
figure things out.”
    I wasn’t sure
what things she meant. The sad look in her golden-brown eyes told me to let it
go for now.
    She got to her
feet and headed towards the door. “You’ve had a hard day. Try not to stay up
too late. If you need me, I’ve got calls to return.”
    “What am I
supposed to do? I finished my book. This place doesn’t even have internet. How
am I supposed to Skype JoAnna and update Facebook? I
can’t even tweet in this time-stood-still town since you canceled my phone,” I
said, my tone bordering on whiny.
    “Sorry, I need
to get you added to my plan. Write a letter. The roll-top desk in the den has
lovely stationary in the center drawer.”
    “Write a letter? Seriously?” I plopped back onto my bed and shoved my
MacBook Pro to the side as Aunt Claire shut the door behind her. “Can’t we get
a satellite dish?” I shouted at the closed door.
    After deciding
what to wear to school from the limited amount of clothes I’d packed in the
car, I wandered about my room wishing the truck had arrived. Then, I’d at least
have unpacking to occupy my thoughts. Instead, I had pain to focus on. My knee
was sore. If I took a pain pill now it would run out in the middle of the
night. Hidden in the quiet, a sadistic voice waited in my memories of that
terrible night. It didn’t care about my pain or the hollowness of my life. It
claimed ownership. As punishment for my avoidance, it would suck me into my
nightmares, holding me captive until morning.
    I pulled back
the