Signed, Sealed, Delivered by Juliana Smith EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Juliana Smith
- Language: English
- Genre: Clean & Wholesome Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
CALLA
Age 13:
To: shinyobjects@gmail.com
From: lilypad10@gmail.com
To my new friend,
Hello, howdy, bonjour,
Looks like you’re my assigned partner in our pen pal partnerships group.
Since we have to keep this “anonymous,” you can call me Lily. It’s not
my real name. And since we’ll be doing this for the next six months, I have
to ask you the following questions. No point in working hard on this if we
don’t even like each other. There is only one right answer to each, so watch
your mouth…or your words, I guess.
1. Which Pop-Tart flavor is the best?
2. What would you name your pinkie toe if it suddenly became its own
person?
3. Who would you cast to play you in a movie about your life?
I have more, but I’ll go easy on you for now.
No pressure, but these questions will determine whether we can truly be
friends. And I’m pretty cool, so if I were you, I would answer wisely.
Good luck.
Your almost friend,
Lily
***
There are over sixty ways to combine English cuss words. And I’d used
almost all of them in the last five minutes.
“Come on, you piece of metal donkey. Move.”
I banged the steering wheel with both hands, willing my car to get me
another forty feet. Just far enough to make it to the pump at the gas station.
In response, it shook and gurgled like it was cussing right back. I gasped,
appalled by my vehicle’s attitude.
So I took a different approach—good cop, bad cop style.
“You are not a donkey, sweet angel. You’re a stallion. A racehorse ready
to refuel and recharge. In need of a massage and aromatherapy. I gotchu,
sis. Just keep pushing.”
Miracle of all miracles, my Corolla reached pump nine. Once we were
there, it let out another gurgle, and then a tiny pop. And I swear the engine
sighed. I could only assume it was my car’s equivalent of taking her bra off
at the end of a long day. Patting the steering wheel, I assured her that she
could relax now.
When I pulled out my wallet, I was certain a moth flew out. Or maybe a
tumbleweed. Inside the worn leather sat thirty-four dollars in cash, a
Starbucks gift card with maybe seventy-two cents left on it, and a business
card for a traveling barber. The other side held things most adults
considered practical: my driver’s license, my debit card, and a gym
membership card. But none of those would help me, considering the
balance in my checking account was somewhere around negative fortythree dollars, last I checked.
I pulled out a twenty and tapped my steering wheel again.
“Good job, Lola. Man, for a second there, I didn’t think you were gonna
make it.”
Lola didn’t reply in any kind of way, but she didn’t have to; I knew she
was ready to rest.
I took my keys from the ignition and weaved my way through the
parking lot. The gas station smelled like stale Triscuits with a hint of
cigarette smoke. It was a glorious scent, considering that about ten minutes
ago, I thought I’d be stranded forever, forced to survive on highway
roadkill.
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