"Um...hi. My name is Claire?" - Chapter 2 Part 2 (CH2 P2)

          She dug in her backpack, found her cell phone, and checked for coverage. It was kind of lame in Morganville, truthfully, out in the middle of the prairie, in the middle of Texas, which was about as middle of nowhere as it was possible to get unless you wanted to go to Mongolia or something. Two bars. Not great, but it'd do.

           Claire started dialing numbers. The first person told her that they'd already found somebody, and hung up before she could even say, "Thanks." The second one sounded like a weird old guy. The third one was a weird old lady. The fourth one...well, the fourth one was just plain weird. The fifth listing down read, THREE ROOMMATES SEEKING FOURTH, huge old house, privacy assured, reasonable rent and utilities. Which...okay, she wasn't sure that she could afford "reasonable" - she was more looking for "dirt cheap" - but at least it sounded less weird than the others. Three roommates. That meant three more people who'd maybe take up for her if Monica and company came sniffing around...or at least take up for the house. Hmmmmm. She called, and got an answering machine with a mellow-sounding, young-sounding male voice.

          - Hello, you've reached the Glass House. If you're looking for Michael, he sleeps days. If you're looking for Shane, good luck with that, 'cause we never know where the hell he is - distant laughter from at least two people - and if you're looking for Eve, you'll probably get her on her cell phone or at the shop. But hey. Leave a message. And if you're looking to audition for the room, come on by. It's 716 West Lot Street. - A totally different voice, a female one lightened up by giggles like bubbles in soda, said - Yeah, just look for the mansion. - And then a third voice, male again. - Gone with the Wind meets The Munsters. - More laughter, and a beep.

          Claire blinked, coughed, and finally said, "Um...hi. My name is Claire? Claire Danvers? And I was, um, calling about the, um, room thing. Sorry." And hung up in a panic. Those three people sounded...normal. But they sounded pretty close, too. And in her experience, groups of friends like that just didn't open up to include underage, undersized geeks like her. They hadn't sounded mean; they just sounded - self-confident. Something she wasn't.

          She checked the rest of the listings, and felt her heart actually sink a little. Maybe an inch and a half, with a slight sideways twist. God, I'm dead. She couldn't sleep out here on a bench like some homeless loser, and she couldn't go back to the dorm; she had to do something. Fine, she thought, and snapped her phone shut, then open again to dial a cab.

Słownictwo

• kind of lame - kiepskie, trochę beznadziejne
• dialing numbers - wybierać numer
• utilities - usługi komunalne
• giggles - chichotać się
• mansion - pałac, rezydencja
• sink - tonąć
• dial a cab - zadzwonić po taksówkę

Źródła

pnovel.com, shutterstock.com