The Secret of Zormna Clendar - Julie Steimle (best autobiographies to read .txt) 📗

another way around.”

“Why?” Zormna looked back to her.

Sighing, Jennifer pointed. “Todd’s friends are here. All of them.”

Zormna made a face, as her eyes quickly found the cluster of boys, focusing securely on Jeff who immediately saw her.

He cackled when he saw her rise up the escalator. “Well, looky here. If it isn’t the hot headed munchkin, Zormna.”

It was kind of creepy how Jeff could pick Zormna out of a crowd, much in the same way Zormna could spot the FBI.

“What brings you to the mall?” he asked, his voice full of sarcasm.

Jennifer and Zormna stepped off the moving stairs together, but did not go much farther than a few steps. Both shot glares at the boys. Todd looked relieved, though. Seeing the girls together meant they had made peace—which he had been pushing for.

 “None of your business,” Zormna snapped back. She tugged on Jennifer’s arm for her to lead the way.

“Ah, come on!” Jeff called after her. “What’s your hurry?”

His friends gazed longingly after Zormna, most likely thinking the same thing. Mark glared at Jeff like he wanted to push him over the railing, or at least strangle him. After all, Zormna’s looks got darker the more Jeff spoke.

Yet Jeff moved quickly out of their reach, detecting hostility from his pals. His mocking smirk curled at the corners of his mouth with an accompanying flicker in his fathomless eyes. “You’re here to get a bathing suit, aren’t you?”

“How did—?” Jennifer gaped.

But Zormna scowled as said to her, “We share the same PE hour.”

And she pulled Jennifer along to make her hurry.

Yet chills went down Jennifer’s arms. Jeff’s impenetrable stare watched them as they went off. His smirk remained, though Jennifer notice he was watching her as well.

“Good luck! You won’t be finding any granny suits here,” he called after them.

Jennifer peered at him curiously then took off after Zormna.

Jeff nodded to her when she glanced back.

“You’ll know what I mean by granny suits when you get there, Jennifer.” And he winked.

Zormna’s pace had shifted into a march. She lifted her chin. Her eyes were forward and her neck stiff. Jennifer was right at her side, still glancing back at Jeff until it hurt her neck to continue. But that uncanny feeling did not leave her. Something was not right with that boy.

Looking for swimsuits at the mall was always fun. There was this cute bikini Jennifer wanted that her mother said was way too trashy. But there were also these cool sporty two-pieces Jennifer liked. Now was the chance to get one—and maybe sneak in the bikini.

Speaking of bikinis, since Zormna had been mum on information about Jeff, despite their deal, Jennifer started handing Zormna all the bikinis first.

“Are you insane?” Zormna snapped back, throwing the tiny blue one she had just been given right at Jennifer’s face. “I might as well go naked!”

So Jennifer shrugged off-hand. “Ok. Go naked. I’m sure the boys would love that.”

Shooting a dirty look, Zormna huffed. “Don’t talk nonsense. You are just doing this to annoy me.”

“Well, you aren’t keeping your part of the deal,” Jennifer shot back. “Tell me about Jeff. Everything you know.”

But Zormna only grumbled.

“What was that?” Jennifer perked up her head.

Speaking more clearly, Zormna said, “You already know all you need to know about ‘Jeff’. He is trouble. That’s it.”

“No.” Jennifer huffed. “That cannot be it. Why is he trouble? Was he really in a gang? You have to know more than that.”

But Zormna only snorted.

Jennifer tossed a green striped bikini at her. “This one should do it.”

Pulling the spaghetti-stringed thong off her face, Zormna glared at her. “Stop it.”

“Tell me the truth about Jeff,” Jennifer said. “What you really know.”

Zormna sighed wearily and groaned. Finally, she said, “He takes after his mother.”

Jennifer blinked. “What?”

Shrugging, Zormna replied, “He takes after his mother. Dark hair, eyes. He takes after her. I saw his file.”

Jennifer inched nearer. “Did you meet his dad?”

Zormna shook her head. “No. But I saw him. Blonde. Lighter eyes.”

“Like Alex.” Jennifer nodded her head.

Zormna chuckled, looking ceiling-ward. “Yeah.”

“Why do you do that?” Jennifer pulled back frowning.

“Do what?” Zormna looked up from the rack, grimacing at this perfectly beautiful one-piece French-cut blue swimsuit.

“Make that face and huff like that when talking about Alex?”

Blinking, Zormna stared. “I’m making a face?”

Jennifer nodded. “You also do it when you say the name Jeff. And you always call Alex Al. Why? No one else calls him that.”

Zormna pressed her lips together, blushing faintly. Apparently she had not been aware she was doing it. Finally, with a regarding peek at Jennifer, Zormna said, “I guess I just know them differently. Jeff is Jafarr to me. Calling him ‘Jeff’ just…feels strange. As for Al—that’s what Jafarr calls him.”

“But his name is Alex,” Jennifer said. “And you are supposedly a stickler for calling Jeff by his real name rather than his nickname.”

Zormna rolled her eyes.

“There! You’re doing it again!” Jennifer walked around the rack to her. “What is the big deal?”

Sighing, Zormna said, “The big deal is that I don’t really know Al that much. I know that he plays handball rather well, but that’s all.”

Jennifer blinked. She didn’t know about the handball. And she had hoped for more about the brothers.

“But ‘Jeff’ is another matter. I have had too many interactions with him—and besides, a name like Jafarr isn’t one to be ashamed of.” Zormna’s cheeks were now flushed.

But Jennifer said, “The villain from Aladdin.”

Zormna rolled her eyes. “No. His—” She shook her head. “In an old language, the word jafarr means fighter…and not just fighter. But defender, like a champion. And that nickname of his—Jeff—sounds like the word jaff, which means fist.”

“Wow.” Jennifer wondered what her name might mean in Zormna’s language, whatever language it was.

“I just think he should not be ashamed of his name,” Zormna murmured, putting the blue bathing suit back into the rack. “His mother must have loved him very much to have given him a name like that.”

Jennifer blinked. “After the villain in Aladdin?”

Sighing, Zormna shook her head. She pushed aside a red suit, same cut as the blue one.

Jennifer knew the conversation would end there if she didn’t say something. So she whispered, knowing the man in the suit with the earpiece was not far away. “So, what is it that makes Jeff so dangerous? Does he have a police record? You said you saw his file.”

Groaning, Zormna hung her head. “Please…. Why is this so important? He’s just a jerk I met at school. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

Shaking her head, Jennifer said, “No. You and my mom both say he is trouble. My mom was just basing it off the way he looks. But that scar on his face is your fault—”

Zormna groaned again.

“—And you know why he is trouble. Tell me. Was he in a gang?” Jennifer waited.

“I don’t know. Not exactly,” Zormna sulkily stared back. “I wasn’t supposed to go through the files. But he has an arrest record.”

Jennifer blinked.

“And he was harassed by a gang on a regular basis,” Zormna said, more thoughtfully. “And there was this one time where he broke the leg of—”

“So you heard about that?” Jennifer inched in nearer, whispering.

Blinking, Zormna tilted her head. “What do you mean? You know about him breaking the leg of that gang member who—”

“Oh, my gosh!” Jennifer cupped her hands over her mouth. She stopped herself from laughing out loud. “He did it before?”

“Before?” Zormna’s eyes widened. “You mean he did it again?”

Jennifer nodded conspiratorially. “The Monroe wrestling team cornered him after he became state champ. And…”

Zormna slowly nodded. “And he kicked in the knee of the guy—breaking it.”

Nodding again, a laugh caught in Jennifer’s throat.

“He did the same to this gang leader back in his neighborhood,” Zormna said, shaking her head. “He wasn’t charged for it or anything, as it was self-defense. But the gang had it out for him since. The story goes, some of the police were keeping watch over him, especially since one time the gang was about to push him onto the train tracks.”

“The ‘L’?” Jennifer asked, thinking of Chicago and their trains.

Zormna blinked, not comprehending for some reason.

“Anyway,” Zormna said, shaking it off, “The moral of this whole story is never corner Jafarr Z—” She stopped herself, flushing. Closing her eyes she said, “Never take him on. He’s an escape artist.”

“Except you took him on,” Jennifer laughed. “Did he ever get away from you?”

“No,” Zormna said with cold pride. Her chin was firm, her expression borderline smug. “But I don’t lose people.”

She shoved aside another swimsuit. Then another.

“Did he ever try to break your leg?” Jennifer whispered.

Thinking on it, Zormna shrugged. “Probably. But I’m not some punk from an inner-city gang.”

Jennifer sighed. No. She was super-ninja Irishwoman. Not entirely human. Possibly even from another world, if Darren was right. But Jennifer dismissed that last thought as quickly as it had come.

Zormna glanced at her and added, “He did kick me in the face though—once.”

“He what!” Jennifer gaped.

Nodding, Zormna said most casually, “That’s right. The sixth time I caught him. It was to get back at me for breaking his nose—which was still only an accident.”

But Jennifer stared, looking now for breaks or scars in Zormna’s skin.

“He missed my nose,” Zormna added, noticing. “But half my face was black and green for a month. I had a split lip, and I could hardly see out of one eye. He didn’t break anything. But I had a huge headache.”

A guy willing to kick a girl in the face…for revenge. Yep. Her mother was right. Jeff Streigle was a punk.

She looked at Zormna’s frustrated shoving-aside the suits on the rack and wondered why the girl had not brought it up earlier. It would have made her look better and him worse. And people would have believed her. They probably would not have thought her so much of a snob, if she had told them.

But then Zormna never was much for revealing anything about her past unless she had to. And though she was proud of her ranking back at her old school, Zormna hardly talked about that either. She just sort of let things go. Compartmentalizing them. Even now, Zormna was on task, eyes only on bathing suits and her mind off the guy who had harassed her just minutes ago. Most other girls would be ranting about it.

“Zormna, what exactly are you looking for?” Jennifer finally asked, watching Zormna push yet another perfectly decent swimsuit aside.

Zormna frowned, thrusting a thong bikini to the right and reaching toward a flower print strapless with a twitch of distaste. “I just want a modest suit.”

She kept searching through the racks, making faces at every suit on display, including all the high-necked one-piece sports suits. If anything, they were modest. No cleavage. And since Zormna didn’t have anything juicy to divulge about Jeff, she might as well do what she promised.

Modest. Modest… Jennifer searched the racks and unearthed this one with a lower nineteen-fifties leg-style. It was creamy peach. “How about this one? Isn’t this your favorite color? It would look great on you.”

Lifting her eyes to the suit for only a second, Zormna then averted them back to her search. “I saw that one. But it didn’t have any sleeves.” 

Sleeves. Of all the… Jennifer shook her head. Jeff was right. They were looking for granny suits.

Grabbing Zormna’s wrist, Jennifer snatched the peach bathing suit off the rack. “Swimming suits don’t have sleeves. We’re buying this one.”

She dragged Zormna to the checkout counter. Jennifer slammed the suit on the counter.

The cashier jumped, her eyes popping on both girls with a start.

“But I can’t go without my shoulders covered.” Zormna complained, staring at the peach suit with self-pity. “It is indecent!”

But Jennifer could tell Zormna wasn’t going to fight it. Not after all the suits they had already looked at.

“Then put a tee shirt on over it,” Jennifer snapped. “Sometimes you can be such an idiot.”

Zormna flushed, yet she averted her eyes in acknowledgment that Jennifer was right.

Attempting an apologetic glance at