Freya Snow Pup Trilogy Read online

  Freya smiled at that. She was going to miss Alice.

  “Hug?” Alice asked.

  Freya nodded, letting her sister awkwardly wrap her arms around her. Alice’s hugs were kind of a mess, but Freya never felt uncomfortable with them like she did when other people hugged her.

  “Well,” Freya said once Alice pulled away, “I guess I’d better go downstairs, then.”

  “I’ll message you later,” Alice told her.

  Freya nodded, picking up her handbag and sticking her phone in before heading out the door.

  FREYA HURRIED DOWN the stairs, ignoring all the other kids milling around the corridors. They wouldn’t want to talk to her anyway.

  She hurried into the kitchen, thankfully finding it empty, and made herself a glass of water, using it to take her pill. She hated that they were kept out in the open in the kitchen, but she wasn’t allowed to keep any medication in her room. Not even the pill, despite the fact that the days of the week written along the outside of the packet made it painfully obvious what they were. She’d taken it since she was eleven for cramps, and it had been horrifically embarrassing to have everyone assume that she was on it for birth control.

  It probably hadn’t been helped by the fact that she bloomed early, and she was always tall for her age.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Freya jumped at her social worker, Irum’s, voice, having not noticed her enter the kitchen.

  “I’m fine,” Freya lied, downing the end of her water.

  Irum frowned a little, telling her she didn’t believe the lie, but Freya didn’t care. She was more than used to playing ‘fine’ and she knew how to commit to the role.

  “Are you nervous to see Margaret and Ryan again?”

  “I guess,” Freya admitted, knowing that brushing it aside completely would only draw more attention.

  Margaret and Ryan were a perfectly average, middle-class couple, who had perfectly average office jobs, and a perfectly average office romance. Ryan had said little when Freya first met them, but he seemed nice and average. Margaret, on the other hand, had talked enough for both of them, telling Freya about how she and Ryan hadn’t planned on getting married since she objected to the sexist overtones. However, they decided to go through with it once they realised that they couldn’t have children of their own, hoping that it would make the adoption process easier. But they decided to foster first.

  Freya figured that made her a test-run, which she was fine with. It wasn’t as if she’d stay with them for that long. She never did.

  Irum looked as if she wanted to say something else, so Freya pointedly stared at the little TV on the wall. The TV was mute, but the headline was clear. Two teenagers had died in the city, burned alive. Except they had been in a back alley, and nothing else had caught fire around them.

  “Weird,” Freya said aloud, making sure that Irum knew that her attention was on the TV. “Isn’t that near where Margaret and Ryan live?”

  “It’s not that close,” Irum corrected, but she adjusted her hijab as she spoke, which was a clear tell that she was lying. “The city isn’t as bad as the news makes it seem. It simply has a few bad elements, as any city that large has.”

  Freya nodded, happy that she successfully changed the subject.

  Before Freya had the chance to speculate on how they had been burned to a crisp without the surrounding area being affected, Ms Pearson walked into the room. Freya swallowed a groan at that. Ms Pearson was a short, plump, older social worker, who dressed like she was a lot taller than she was. She had come in specially to help Freya find a new foster home away from her current school. There was no way she wouldn’t ask Freya how she felt.

  “Freya,” she greeted. “How are you this morning?”

  Like clockwork, Freya thought to herself as she faked a smile.

  “I’m fine.”

  Ms Pearson didn’t give her a concerned frown like Irum had, she merely raised an eyebrow.

  “Are you ready to see your new home?”

  Freya nodded. “Thank you for helping to find it for me,” she said, doing her best to steer the conversation away from herself.

  Ms Pearson smiled at that. “It was no problem, Freya. I think the city will be good for you. There will be a better mix of people.”

  “Yeah,” Freya said, though her eyes returned to the TV. She figured that Ms Pearson was right about the city having a mix of new people; the real question was if they were people she wanted anything to do with.

  “We’d better get going,” Irum said, drawing Freya’s attention back to her. “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah. I’m ready.”

  Chapter Two

  The drive to the city wasn’t particularly long, but Freya had never fared well with car travel. She knew she should keep her eyes on the window, to stop herself from getting carsick, but she didn’t want to give Irum the idea that she was open to talking. Instead, she kept her eyes glued to her phone, despite the rapidly forming headache and queasiness in her stomach.

  Freya lifted her head, however, as she felt a prickle across her skin. She looked up just in time to see the sign, informing her they were now entering the city. Freya looked over to Irum, but there was no sign she had felt anything strange. Freya decided to shrug it off; it was probably a blast from the air conditioner.

  It wasn’t too long before the car came to a stop in front of an average, two-floor terraced house in a new-build housing estate.

  Freya’s new home.

  “Now, Freya,” Irum started, using her ‘teaching tone’.

  “Irum,” Freya replied, mimicking the tone.

  “Freya,” she warned, “you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

  “I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that that’s wrong,” Freya said, still staring at the house beyond the window. “Vinegar actually catches more flies.”

  “It’s just an expression, Freya.”

  Freya didn’t respond, recognising that Irum was getting annoyed with her.

  “Come on, Freya. Would it kill you to smile?”

  Freya supposed it probably wouldn’t kill her, but that didn’t make it easy. In fact, smiling was one of the hardest things she did these days. But admitting to that would only make Irum worry, making her think Freya had depression or something. She couldn’t afford that.

  So, she forced herself to smile, taking a deep breath before finally facing Irum to show her.

  “That’s better,” Irum said, mirroring Freya’s smile.

  Freya felt some small relief at not letting Irum down, but it was a minor counter to the numb resignation that forcing herself to smile had caused.

  “Come on,” Irum said. “Let’s not keep your new foster parents waiting.”

  Freya nodded as Irum got out of the car, trailing a while behind her. She was in no real rush.

  Irum got her suitcase out of the boot before passing it to her. Freya took the plastic handle before trailing behind Irum as she walked up the driveway, towards the door.

  Freya stood as much behind Irum as she could get away with as Irum rang the doorbell, trying not to fidget as they waited. She quickly gave in, however, clicking and unclicking the button on the handle that would allow it to contract.

  After what felt like far too long, a short, skinny woman with ice-blue eyes and a short, platinum bob answered the door.

  “Irum, Freya,” Margaret greeted with a smile. “I’m so glad you’re finally here.”

  Freya just kept smiling as Irum took the lead on talking with Margaret. She blanked out their small talk, instead looking around at the living room as Margaret led them through. It was nice, Freya supposed, if you liked white.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?”

  Freya’s attention refocused on Margaret as she realised the question had been aimed at her.

  “Yes,” Freya said reflexively, although she only actually liked green tea.

  Margaret and Irum kept talking, but Ryan came into the room a few minut
es later with cups of tea. Freya supposed he must have been in the room when Margaret had asked her if she had wanted any tea, but she hadn’t noticed him.

  She took the tea, focusing on the steam swirling from it instead of the surrounding adults. They were just chattering about nothing, and she had nothing to contribute. She had learned to stay quiet unless she had something essential to say.

  Freya took a sip of her drink, savouring the way the hot liquid warmed her, but the taste was near unbearable. Adding sugar only seemed to make it worse.

  Freya kept her attention on the drink, however, as she did her best to zone out until the adults stopped talking and she could leave.

  AFTER OVER AN HOUR of Freya doing everything she could to stop herself from pulling out her phone, knowing it would be rude, Irum finally got up to leave.

  “You know how to contact me if you need me?” she asked, marking the first time one of the adults had acknowledged Freya’s existence since she had arrived.

  She nodded.

  “Alright. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  Freya just nodded once more.

  Margaret showed Irum out, leaving Freya sitting awkwardly on her own as Ryan checked his phone. She wondered if that meant it would be okay if she did the same, but decided against chancing it. Just in case.

  Margaret returned to the living room swiftly enough, her hands on her hips as she looked over Freya.

  “Alright,” she said. “I suppose we should get you unpacked. We were going to order Chinese for tea tonight. Is that okay with you?”

  Freya nodded.

  “Are you alright if we just get a random selection of things to pick from?”

  Freya kept to nodding.

  “Okay, well, Ryan can order everything and wait for the delivery man. I guess I’d better show you to your room.”

  Freya got up, silently following Margaret upstairs, picking up her suitcase as she went, concentrating on getting it up the stairs without it banging the walls.

  “This is your room,” Margaret said, stepping through the first door at the top of the stairs.

  Freya followed her through, seeing another room that was so white that she felt a headache immediately begin to form. The walls were white, the bedding was white, even the desk, bedside table and wardrobe doors were white. The only exceptions were the black desk chair, and the light blue curtains and decorative pillows.

  Freya’s new room wasn’t large, but it wasn’t small. It had just enough room for the double bed, bedside table and desk, with the wardrobe being built into the wall.

  “I hope everything’s alright for you,” Margaret said, smoothing her black dress as she walked further into the room to stand by the window. “My friend Lizzie said your teachers will expect you to have access to a computer, so Ryan scavenged one from work. He said it’s nothing fancy, but it should do the job. I know Irum said you like to play computer games. Ryan said he’d help to put in a new... graphics card? Or was it RAM?”

  Freya shrugged, knowing it had probably been both. She doubted Margaret would know the words otherwise.

  “Anyway, he said to talk to him about it if some of your games don’t work. Oh! And I have a spare box in my room. I had meant to bring it through for you so you can store any disks or anything.”

  Freya nodded, not wanting to explain that all of her games were in her and Alice’s shared Steam library.

  “Do you need a hand unpacking?” Margaret asked, moving over to Freya’s suitcase.

  “No, I should be fine.”

  “Oh... Okay, then.”

  Freya panicked, internally cursing herself. She could see that her refusal had somehow hurt Margaret.

  Crap, crap, crap...

  “I guess I’ll just stay downstairs with Ryan,” Margaret continued.

  “I... I didn’t mean you had to leave. I ... I can unpack on my own, but you can stay. You know, if you want.”

  Freya kept her gaze firmly on her suitcase, moving the zipper an inch from side to side.

  “I’ll stay,” Margaret said. “But if you want alone time, you can say so.”

  Freya nodded as she brought her suitcase up onto the bed, unzipping it.

  Freya kept her eyes on her suitcase, pretty much ignoring Margaret. She didn’t really know what to say to her.

  “So, are you looking forward to school tomorrow?” Margaret asked.

  Freya shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “A little.”

  “Well, don’t be. I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends.”

  Freya smiled, wanting nothing more than for the line of questioning to end, as she moved between her suitcase and the wardrobe, hanging up her clothes.

  “That’s a nice dress,” Margaret commented as Freya pulled out a midnight blue, knee-length number with lace sleeves.

  “Thanks. It’s my favourite.”

  “It probably would have been mine too at your age.”

  Freya smiled as she continued, but it was draining to concentrate on keeping it up so much.

  “Oh, before I forget,” Margaret said before hurrying out of the room. She returned with plastic bags, filled with navy jumpers and white polo shirts.

  “It’s your new school uniform,” she explained. “You should try it on to make sure it fits.”

  Freya nodded, taking the plastic bags full of uniforms as Margaret walked out of the room to let her change.

  Freya quickly stripped before fishing out a pair of black trousers from her suitcase. She pulled it on before unpacking one of the polo shirts.

  Once the polo shirt was on, Freya turned to the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door. But it became immediately clear that the shirt was unisex, as it hung from her chest in a way that exposed her stomach, even though the back was fine.

  Freya took a deep breath, telling herself it was fine. She didn’t have to tell Margaret. It probably wouldn’t be noticeable under the jumper, anyway.

  She reached for one of the jumpers, pulling it on. It, thankfully, made it to the top of her trousers, but the sleeves only made it three-quarters of the way down her arms.

  “Are you ready?” Margaret asked.

  “Yes,” Freya answered after a moment, her mind blanking on other alternatives.

  Her stomach tightened with anxiety as Margaret came in, looking her over.

  “Oh, shi-sugar,” Margaret said as she noticed the shortened sleeves. “I... I didn’t think to get any bigger ones. That’s a large. I didn’t think there was any way you’d need bigger than a large.”

  Freya shrugged. “I have long arms...”

  “Well, I suppose it’s not meant to be that cold tomorrow. You could just wear your polo shirt and coat?”

  Freya gave an apologetic grimace before pulling the jumper off to show the state of the polo shirt.

  Margaret groaned. “This is just like me... I should have thought ahead...”

  “It’s fine,” Freya assured her, though her voice was barely audible, her gaze glued to the floor. “I’ll... I can roll my sleeves up and get a bigger jumper tomorrow.”

  Margaret nodded. “I guess that will have to do. I’m sorry, I... I can’t believe I’m already messing this up...”

  “You’re not messing anything up,” Freya managed. “It’s fine.”

  The doorbell rang, and Freya let out a sigh of relief at the distraction.

  “I guess that will be tea,” Margaret said, before leading Freya back downstairs.

  BY THE TIME THEY HAD finished eating, Freya was past exhaustion. She supposed she shouldn’t be, given she hadn’t really done all that much, but she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

  She had dared to tell Margaret as much when she had suggested they watch a film.

  “Sleep is probably a good plan,” she agreed, to Freya’s relief. “Tomorrow is your first day at a new school, after all.”

  Freya nodded in agreement. “Goodnight,” she said, before heading upstairs.

  “Your
toothbrush is the blue one,” Margaret called up after her.

  Freya headed into her room, quickly changing into a pair of pyjamas before heading back out and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

  She spent more than a little while scrubbing her face with baby wipes, trying to remove every trace of makeup, but it was no use. Her eyeliner wouldn’t budge.

  Freya sighed, throwing away the baby wipe in her hand before picking up the blue toothbrush and covering it in toothpaste. As she lifted it to her mouth, however, she spotted the now-familiar pair of glowing red eyes in the mirror.

  She froze in fear. The eyes were no longer on their own. Instead, surrounding them was a man with paper-white skin and teeth as sharp as needles, which he was showing as he smiled. The rest of his features were gnarled and scarred. Inhuman.

  Freya couldn’t break her eyes from his as her fear kept her from moving. Not even as he reached his hand out to grab her.

  “Freya?”

  Freya jumped at the sound of Margaret’s voice, spinning around to see she was alone.

  “Are you okay in there?” her foster mother asked.

  “Yeah,” Freya responded, though her voice cracked just a little. She cleared her throat as she did her best to calm her heart rate.

  It wasn’t real. He wasn’t here.

  She didn’t know if that was more or less terrifying...

  “I’m fine,” Freya said, her voice more level, though she didn’t know if it was her or Margaret she was trying to convince.

  “Okay,” Margaret said, seemingly happy with her answer. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will.”

  Chapter Three

  Freya didn’t sleep that night.

  Despite the fact she was sure that he had just been a figment of her imagination, Freya spent all night waiting for the monster to reappear and kill her.

  Of course, he didn’t, because he wasn’t real, but the fear had kept her up all night, regardless.

  As soon as her phone’s clock ticked over to seven, Freya got up, out of bed. She was exhausted, but she couldn’t lie there any longer.