Crystal by V. C. Andrews

much to do now that school's starting," Karl said, corning to my rescue.
"She has to have time off, doesn't she? What's a better way to spend it than reading?" Thelma countered.
How funny, I thought. I would get assignments at school and assignments at home. There was no doubt in my mind which ones my mother thought were more important.
Once I got home and put all my new things away, I realized Karl wasn't so wrong. I did need to get to bed.
I was so nervous about the next day and what it would bring, sleep was as hard to grasp and hold as an icicle. He was right about another thing, too. It wasn't easy to change schools, to make new friends, to get used to different teachers and rules.
It was almost like losing your memory and starting over as a different person.
And wasn't that exactly what I was, a new person with a new last name and a new family?
My old self curled up in some dark corner, shivering, naked, and alone.
"What will become of me?" she asked.
"In time," I told her, "you will disappear."
It was a cruel thought, but it was what ! hoped would happen, wasn't it?
It was also what made me cower in my own new corner of the world, just as naked and just as frightened about tomorrow.

5 A New Friend
    To my surprise, Karl decided he would take me to school every morning, but I had to come home on the bus. It wasn't a problem, because the route was just a few minutes out of his way to work.
Nevertheless, it was really Thelma who had suggested it.
    "It will give you two more time to get to know each other," she said. I was waiting for her to add the name of a book and the names of characters in a similar situation, but she didn't. Karl considered and decided she was right.
    Karl and I hadn't spent all that much time together without Thelma. She was always the one who began conversations or asked questions. When Karl and I drove off that first morning, I remembered he didn't like being distracted from his driving, so I didn't say anything. For a while, we drove in complete silence, interrupted occasionally by his describing the route we were taking.
    "What is your favorite subject?" he finally asked.
"Science, especially biology," I replied. He nodded, his eyes fixed firmly on the car ahead of us.
"I enjoyed science, but math was always my favorite. I never told anyone:' he said, flashing a small smile at me before whipping his head back to watch the road, "but to me numbers are living things. They resemble one-, two-, and multi-celled animals, depending on the combinations, formulas, and so on."
"That's interesting," I said. He liked that, and I was glad Talking to him had taken the edge off my nervousness. I was distracted enough not to worry about my imminent entrance to a new school full of strangers.
"I feel like I'm creating something when I work out my accounts and balance sheets. Everything has a way of relating to everything else. I bet you can understand what I'm saying," he added.
"I think so," I said, even though I wasn't sure I did, and he gave me a wider smile.
"When we were trying to make a baby, I was hoping he or she would grow up to be someone I could talk to, someone who was bright enough to understand. That's why I was so happy when Thelma said she liked you, too. Most kids have fluff in their heads today," he continued, his eyes darkening. "They don't get serious about life until it's almost too late or, in many cases, too late. There are too many
distractions. Don't tell Thelma I said this, but I think it's good that you don't want to spend all your free time staring into a light bulb."
"A light bulb?"
"That's all television is to me, a light bulb with idiotic stuff on its surface," he muttered. "I don't even like the way they report the news. The news is a comic book these days."
I was surprised at how forcefully he condemned television. I could see him rushing into people's homes and smashing screens with a sledge hammer, yet when it came to his own home, he sat silently reading his magazines while