Forcing Gravity Read Online Free

Alana Davis, the woman most people would kill to call their mother, but I knew better. Sure, we shared some things, like the color of our hair and the same tall, willowy build , but the resemblances ended there, and I was so grateful that I took after my dad.
    “Yes ma’am,” Julio said, turning around.
    “Is dinner almost ready?” she demanded.
    God, would it kill her to ask nicely?
    “Five minutes ma’am,” he said.
    She looked dismayed but didn’t express the feelings of contempt I knew were simmering just below the surface . “Very well. I’ll just have a drink before we sit down. Oh, Logan, when did you get here?” she asked, finally noticing me sitting ten feet from her.
    I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “My flight got in at three , Mom. I sent your assistant my itinerary.”
    “Oh, yes, right. That was today. Okay, then. Well, dinner is in few minutes. Would you like a drink?”
    I frowned at her, knowing how my dad would have reacted upon hearing her ask me that. He was firmly against me drinking, but she’d been offering me cocktails since I’d turned sixteen . Out o f respect for what he’d want, I turned her down. Although, having some alcohol in my system around her might make the evening more tolerable.
    “What are you eating?” she asked, her eyes narrowing when she noticed the plate in front of me.
    “Cheese,” I said, popping another piece in to my mouth.
    She made a face. “Well, don’t eat too much. You don’t want to grow out of the clothes I bought you before school even starts.”
    Or, I could just quit eating like you, and be a rail. Then we could share your size zero clothes. How about that?
    “Sure, Mom. I’ll be careful,” I said, pacifying her.
    If I didn’t, sh e’d surely be dragging me with her to Cardio Hip-Hop or Strip P ilates or whatever new workout craze she was trying that week. I’d made that mistake once, and I wouldn’t do it again. Besides, I burned more calories in an hour of surfing than she did in one of her classes.
    “Come out into the living room. I need a drink before dinner, and your sister wants to say hello.”
    “Okay,” I said, sliding off of my stool. Julio winked at me before turning back to the stove.
    “Mom, this tastes funny,” my sister was saying, as I followed my mom into the living room.
    My mom picked up the glass of orange juice Skylar had set down and sniffed it. “This has vodka in it, darling” she said. “This is Mommy’s drink.”
    I sort of enjoyed that she spoke to my sister like she was five years old, but she let her dress like she was seventeen. It was a ridiculous contradiction. That day, my sister was sporting skinny jeans, four inch ankle boots and a slouchy t-shirt that showed off her mid-drift. She and I would have to have a talk later about age- appropriate attire since my mom certainly wasn’t going to help her. I would not have my baby sister dressing racier than me. Not happening.
    I noticed Skylar was also sporting a face full of make-up, more than I’d worn to my senior prom, and was manicured and pedicured and coiffed to the nines. On a good day, I wore my curly hair down and added some mascara and lip gloss for good measure. We were worlds apart. I was also pretty sure she had a spray tan. Mine was all natural, good old, Florida sun. I’d probably regret it when I was older, but I loved being outside in the sunshine.
    “Lo, Lo!” Skylar called out excitedly, a huge smiled lighting up her face, as soon as she realized I was in the room.
    She still sometimes called me by the name she used when she was a baby. She ’d had trouble with my full name, so I was Lo Lo for several years, and when she missed me, she reverted back to it. Lifting her boots from the edge of the coffee table , she leap off the couch and threw herself into my arms.
    “Hey Sky,” I said, hugging her back. In her heels she was almost as tall as me. “I missed you, kid.”
    “I missed you,” she said into my shoulder.
    My