Read First Chances for Free Online Page B

back to being who I was, meant being the pathetic wallflower that everyone walked over. A wimpy girl who had been cheated on. A broken girl who wallowed in grief and self-pity.
    Being with Three was like being a different person. I could be anyone I wanted to be. I could reinvent myself. I could try to forget.
    Quickly changing into skinny black jeans and a red, figure hugging tank top, I grabbed a cute brown leather jacket with a hoodie to keep warm. To complete the look I pulled on black boots and applied some make up.
    The girl who stared back at me in the mirror looked nothing like the girl I had known all my life. I was a stranger to myself, and I liked it that way. Moments ago, I had looked shit; now I looked like hot shit.
    When I went downstairs, the delicious smell of pasta greeted me, along with an excited Halo and Chance.
    As well as being completely weird, my mother was also an amazing cook. She was the secretary at the law firm in town that Dad was a partner at, but she never neglected her housewife duties.
    I looked almost exactly like her with the same petite build, brown hair, and pointed face, except I had the same shade of brown eyes as my dad and similar smiles.
    “Harmonia!” Dad said with a bright smile from where he sat at the kitchen table. “So nice of you to leave your cave of doom and gloom and join us.”
    Anyone who didn’t know my dad would think he was being serious from the solemn look on his face, but he was about as serious as a grape—however non-serious grapes were.
    “She’s a teenager. They like to stay cooped up in their rooms. Let her do teenager things,” Mom said as she scooped bowtie pasta and marinara sauce onto the three plates on the table.
    “Not in this house!” Dad slammed his fist down on the table in an overdramatic manner. “Do you know what teenagers do these days, Susannah? They get 16 & Pregnant !”
    Mom barely flinched as she put the pot of pasta on the counter and picked up the salad bowl. “Peter, she’s seventeen. I think we’ve cleared that hurdle.”
    “Then I think you failed to notice her outfit,” Dad pointed out. “We simple folk don’t usually get this dressed up for family dinner.”
    Mom’s eyes fell on me and then grew as she finally took in what I was wearing. I was normally a sweater and baggy jeans kind of a girl; I was sure my wardrobe change-up was hard for them to swallow. “Are you going somewhere?”
    “Yeah, uh, just out with a friend,” I said.
    I could tell from the exchanged look between my parents that my lack of detail hadn’t gone unnoticed.
    “Is this friend a dangerous bad boy with a motorcycle who probably owns a secret gun collection and robs jewelry stores on the weekend?” Dad enquired a matter-of-factly.
    Before I could open my mouth to respond, the sound of a motorcycle approaching cut me off.
    “Hmm,” Mom said, setting the salad bowl down on the table with too much force. “I’m assuming you won’t be joining us for dinner.”
    I shook my head and made for the front door, feeling uncomfortable. My parents were pretty easy going when it came to parenting, but I knew they could see the shift in my attitude and didn’t like it. I couldn’t blame them. No parent wanted their academic, straight-laced child to become trouble.
    When I pulled open the door, Three was leaning casually against the railing of our front porch. His dark hair was spiked up as usual and the faint scar on his cheek stood out against his tan skin. I’d asked him about it once, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it so I’d never brought it up again.
    “Hey,” he said, his eyes wandering over me, “you look nice.”
    “Um, thanks,” I responded, my tone shy.
    I wasn’t sure if he was being polite or if that was what he really thought.
    “Don’t look too much,” Dad’s voice said from behind me.
    I almost jumped out of my skin, and felt a flush creep on my neck. I had a feeling my dad was about to majorly embarrass