I followed his gaze over my shoulder, and let out a yelp. The guy standing behind me had to be six feet tall, with shoulders as wide as the door. Though he was as big as an adult, he'd never be mistaken for one. His face could be used as the "before" picture for acne cream. Dark hair hung in his eyes, lank and dull.
"I-I-I--" I swallowed. "I didn't see Ты there."
He reached past me and took the крекер, взломщик sleeve from Simon. When he started to retreat, Simon grabbed the back of his shirt.
"We're still teaching him manners," he сказал(-а) to me. "Derek, Chloe. Chloe, my brother Derek."
"Brother?" I said.
"Yeah." Derek's voice was a low rumble. "Identical twins."
"He's my foster brother," Simon said. "So I was just about to tell Chloe—"
"We done here?" Derek said.
Simon waved him away, then rolled his eyes. "Sorry."
"I-I-I--" I swallowed. "I didn't see Ты there."
He reached past me and took the крекер, взломщик sleeve from Simon. When he started to retreat, Simon grabbed the back of his shirt.
"We're still teaching him manners," he сказал(-а) to me. "Derek, Chloe. Chloe, my brother Derek."
"Brother?" I said.
"Yeah." Derek's voice was a low rumble. "Identical twins."
"He's my foster brother," Simon said. "So I was just about to tell Chloe—"
"We done here?" Derek said.
Simon waved him away, then rolled his eyes. "Sorry."
I woke to the clink-clink of metal hangers. A blond girl flipped through clothes that I was pretty sure were mine, hung up yesterday by Mrs. Talbot.
"Hello," I said.
She turned and smiled. "Nice stuff. Good labels."
"I'm Chloe."
"Liz. Like Lizzie McGuire." She waved at a faded magazine cutout on her wall. "Except, I don't go by Lizzie, 'cause I think it sounds kind of—" She lowered her voice, as if not to offend the picture-Lizzie. "—babyish."
She continued talking, but I didn't hear it because all I could think was "what's wrong with her?" If she was at Lyle House, there was something wrong with her. Some "mental condition."
She didn't look crazy. Her long hair was brushed into a gleaming ponytail. She wore Guess jeans and a Gap t-shirt. If I didn't know better, I'd think I'd woken up in a boarding school.
She kept talking. Maybe that was a sign.
"Hello," I said.
She turned and smiled. "Nice stuff. Good labels."
"I'm Chloe."
"Liz. Like Lizzie McGuire." She waved at a faded magazine cutout on her wall. "Except, I don't go by Lizzie, 'cause I think it sounds kind of—" She lowered her voice, as if not to offend the picture-Lizzie. "—babyish."
She continued talking, but I didn't hear it because all I could think was "what's wrong with her?" If she was at Lyle House, there was something wrong with her. Some "mental condition."
She didn't look crazy. Her long hair was brushed into a gleaming ponytail. She wore Guess jeans and a Gap t-shirt. If I didn't know better, I'd think I'd woken up in a boarding school.
She kept talking. Maybe that was a sign.