We stared at each other, letting the seconds pass at their own leisure. She'd been smirking, because that fit her character, but wasn't smirking anymore, because it annoyed me so I changed it. But though I wanted her hands to twist in her lap, I wanted her to shift nervously as I looked her over, she did not move. She had run away from home without a plan or a driver's licence, and now sat in front of me, straight and bold. Her fire was showing.
I clasped my hands together and shrugged.
"I have to admit, Posy, this isn't the plot I first had in mind for you."
The smirk was back. I felt my right eyebrow twitch, betraying my annoyance. She noticed, and her own eyebrows rose a fraction.
"But your original plot was so boring I was in danger of forgetting about you entirely, so I suppose this is for the best."
The smirk disappeared again. Still, she said nothing.
"Where are you going, Posy?" I asked carefully.
Confusion. "Don't you know? I thought you decided everything."
I tried again. "What did your ticket say?"
She stared at me, and slowly smiled. "You have no idea, do you? You don't know what's next. My plan worked!"
"Maybe it is working," I said with a shrug. "Where would you like to go? If you could choose."
Posy started to smile, and I could practically see the daydreams behind her eyes.
"Paris," she said. "Or Mumbai. Or maybe Hong Kong. Somewhere big and busy. Somewhere old and new at the same time."
I blinked once, unimpressed.
"You're on a bus without a passport," I said. "In Canada."
She deflated a little.
"Vancouver? Montreal?"
I nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
"Really? Thank you!"
YOU ARE READING
Marionette
Teen FictionFifteen-year-old Posy lives in a beautiful farmhouse in the prairies with her parents and older brother. Her life is great. In fact, it's practically perfect. I hate that. I think I'll ruin it, just to make things a little bit more interesting... ...
