Wicked Games (Deadly Cool #3) - Gemma Halliday Page 0,2
than a statement as she eyed the plate in Mom's hands.
It held what looked like crackers with a spread and some shredded stuff on top.
"What is it?" I asked, sniffing.
"Yummy quinoa chips with vegan tofu cheese and organic lentil purée."
Sam made a gagging motion behind my mom's back.
"Sounds…great," I said, giving Mom what I hoped didn't look like too fake of a smile. Hey, she tried. Unfortunately her idea of "yummy" was my idea of dog food. Luckily we lived within walking distance of Taco Bell, so I wasn't in danger of starving.
"I'm going out in a few minutes," Mom said, a goofy grin taking over her features, "so you ladies are going to be on your own tonight.
I cringed. "Going out" was code for "I have a hot date." Mom had recently begun dating David Raley, a homicide detective in the San Jose police department. Much to my dismay.
Mom and Dad had split up when I was ten, and Mom and I moved from my native Los Angeles back to her hometown of San Jose, California, smack in the middle of the Silicon Valley, in an effort to put her degree in programming to use for a tech start-up. At first, it had been an adjustment getting used to the suburban style of my fifth grade counterparts and this odd Northern California phenomenon called "fresh air." But thankfully Sam and I had bonded right away, and I'd eventually found a way to fit into the school society hierarchy.
Mom, on the other hand, had a harder time adjusting to being a single mother. While I loved her to death, she sometimes tended a little toward the overprotective side.
A side that Detective Raley brought out in her in spades.
Thanks to Raley's work-related horror stories, Mom now had me living in a near police state. After hearing about a girl who was almost abducted on Lark Avenue near the freeway entrance, Mom forbade me to walk on the main streets, mapping out my route to and from school through back streets that added another fifteen minutes to my commute. After Raley told her about the incident where ten teenagers got hurt when rabid Drake fans rushed the stage at a concert at the Pavilion, Mom only let me attend events at venues that held fifty people or less. And when Raley detailed how a girl was stalked by a guy on social media, Mom had friended me on every platform so she could keep an eye on me and insisted on posting dorky memes on my timeline. I wasn't sure how much more my social life could take of Mom dating Detective Raley.
"Have fun," I said to her, hoping she didn't elaborate on what exactly she and the detective would be doing.
No such luck.
"Thanks, Hart. We're going to a movie, but I may be a little late because we're going to his place afterward so he can…"
"Stop! Please. Say no more unless you want to pay for my future therapy."
Mom shot me a look. "I may be a little late because he wants me to look at his wallpaper in his bathroom. He needs a woman's opinion on color."
My psyche did a mental sigh of relief. "Right. Cool. Enjoy that, then."
Mom shook her head at me, though I could see the beginnings of a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. "I intend to, Hart. You girls enjoy yourselves here."
"Thanks, Mrs. Featherstone," Sam told her.
Mom closed the door, and Sam sniffed at the plate. "Do you really think this is edible?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I usually wait until she's not looking then flush them down the toilet. We can go grab a burrito later."
Sam nodded. "Genius."
I turned my attention back to the Gamer Con website. "So, it looks like they open at ten tomorrow. The first event is at two, where they'll be unveiling a—"
"—life-sized Yoshi? Ohmigod, too cool!" Sam squealed like a three-year-old again.
I gave her a raised eyebrow.
"What?" she asked. "Hey, Yoshi is awesome!"
I couldn't help grinning. "You wanna come with me tomorrow?"
More squealing. "Dude, this is going to be the best weekend ever!"
CHAPTER TWO
The next morning I awoke to the sound of my Hello Kitty alarm clock meowing at me. It took me a full minute to remember just why my alarm was going off on a Saturday. I reluctantly rolled myself out of bed, showered, added a little mascara and eyeliner for good measure, then slipped into a pair of skinny jeans, Converse, and a hot