100 Sideways Miles Read Online Free PDF Page A

from the same supernova.
    The atoms inside me sparked and jangled nervously as soon as I saw her.
    This was new.
    I rubbed my eyes.
    I was ahead in credits, and a good student. And everyone in the office knew about my epilepsy, so they were always so careful around me. During third period, I worked as “Office Concierge” for Burnt Mill Creek High School. It was among my responsibilities to show visitors and new students around our campus.
    I had very polite atoms.
    Usually, getting a new student in May meant something bad—like the kid had been expelled from another school because of drugs or fighting.
    Nobody moves in May.
    The head counselor, Mrs. Hinman, tried to snap me out of my daze. She said, “Finn, this is Julia Bishop. She’s starting classes today.”
    â€œUh. Uh.” I was completely dumb.
    Mrs. Hinman handed me Julia Bishop’s class schedule. She had an extra-concerned look on her face when she said, “Finn? Are you all right, sweetie?”
    She thought I was blanking out. I knew that look. Nobody calls a sixteen-year-old guy “sweetie” unless he’s pissed his pants or something.
    â€œOh. Sorry. Um. Hi. Here, let me show you where your classes are,” I said.
    Then I snatched Julia Bishop’s papers and escorted her out of the office.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    â€œIs that your name?” Julia asked.
    On the south side of the office building, the stairsteps of a tiered grass field led down to an outside amphitheater and the cluster of classroom buildings that made up the campus.
    I was sweating. It was hot. And something else was going on too.
    â€œUh. Finn. Yes,” I answered.
    The girl paused, studied me.
    She said, “There are fish on your socks.”
    This is what I wore that day: red and black Burnt Mill Creek High School basketball shorts and a white sweatshirt from UCLA with the hood pulled up over the mess of my straw hair. I had gray and black skater shoes and dark blue socks with sharks swimming and swimming up around my ankles. Somehow, I felt as though I were standing there naked in front of that beautiful girl.
    â€œUh. Sharks.” I was slack jawed, immobile and helpless, frozen in the grass. Cade had given me those socks on my sixteenth birthday, the summer before. I didn’t know what else to say.
    What can you say to someone like that—someone who so obviously had been paying attention to your socks?
    â€œWell, they’re cute. I like them. How tall are you?”
    I went completely dumb.
    Then she leaned forward and looked directly at my eyes.
    â€œHuh! You have two different colored eyes. That’s beautiful.”
    I couldn’t help but look back at her eyes. They were brown. Julia Bishop’s eyes were wondrous.
    â€œUh.”
    I squinted, trying to focus on the papers I held, the ones that would contain the mysteries of Julia Bishop.
    I wondered why she’d come here—if she had parents who were monsters, or if I could find anything that might say, This is why I ended up here on this grass staircase walking beside you, Finn .
    I smelled flowers. I prayed that it might only be her perfume.I repeated in my head, over and over, a command for my atoms to stay here, to not blank out.
    Julia Bishop.
    Grade eleven.
    She lived in San Francisquito Canyon.
    Remember that address, Finn.
    Don’t walk so fast.
    â€œHey. I live in San Francisquito Canyon too,” I said.
    â€œWell, nice to meet you, neighbor,” Julia answered.
    I smell something sweet.
    I struggled to come up with anything clever that would make her need to keep talking to me, looking at me and my socks, so we wouldn’t have to hurry to her class. And my dumbfounded seconds ticked by.
    Twenty miles.
    Twenty miles.
    Twenty miles.
    Before I could unstick my throat, she stopped in front of me and pulled open the door to the art building.
    Click!
    â€œWell, nice socks, anyway, Finn. And eyes. You have a cool