A Beautiful Dark Read Online Free PDF

her head at Dan and Ian as though I couldn’t see. Another surprise party was inevitable.
    “Well, since you’re ignoring all my requests anyway”—I got to my feet—“I promised Aunt Jo I’d be home before the storm hit, and it’s been way longer than an hour.”
    Ian stood up. “Thanks again. You saved my life today.” He awkwardly pulled my hood down over my face before shoving his hands into his pockets and saying he needed to go talk to the manager. He walked off.
    “He’s so cute,” Cassie said. “I don’t know why you don’t just go out with him already.”
    “You think all guys are cute,” Dan muttered.
    “No, I don’t, Daniel. I think some are hot .”
    I left them to their squabbling and headed out to my car. I didn’t know why I had a sense that someone was watching me. I glanced around. People were trudging up and down the street, wandering in and out of the shops. But I was looking for someone in particular. Asher.
    Only I didn’t see him. Instead, I was climbing into my car when something else caught the corner of my eye. I jerked my head around, but it was gone. I could have sworn I’d seen a shock of blond hair, blue eyes.
    I turned the key in the ignition, promising myself I would officially banish all thoughts of the two guys from last night the second the car roared to life. They were probably just what Ian had said they were: tourists. I’d never see them again.
    On the drive home, I kept the windows open. I hoped the freezing air would make everything vanish into the white sky.

Chapter 4
     
    T he next morning, I woke up floating.
    My eyes were closed, even though it didn’t feel like I was asleep anymore. It was hard to tell. I must have been in that weird state between dreaming and waking, where dreams could be memories and the real world could be a dream.
    It felt like my body was suspended above the mattress, though how far above it I couldn’t tell. And suddenly, I didn’t want to open my eyes at all. I stiffened in panic.
    I was floating?
    I counted backward, still unsure if the counting was happening in my head or if I was saying the words out loud.
    Three. Two. One.
    I opened my eyes.
    But I wasn’t floating at all. The sensation of being in midair had vanished, and I lay in bed, the comforter tangled tightly around my body as if I’d been tossing and turning the whole night. It was morning. The only thing that floated in the air was the occasional dust particle caught by the weak winter sun. The window was open, and the cold air blew my curtains back to let in the gray light of the early day. Was the clasp broken?
    The alarm on my nightstand buzzed loudly, and I fumbled to snooze it. When I saw what time it was, I froze. Seven thirty. School started in forty minutes. I was late. I was never late. How many times had I hit Snooze?
    I forgot everything as I scrambled to pull myself together. I burned through my morning routine, pulling on a pair of dark jeans, a couple of long tanks, a chunky cardigan, and a long necklace or two. In the bathroom, I washed my face and rubbed in some tinted moisturizer, brushing my teeth as I frantically scrambled to apply two coats of mascara with my left hand. I swept my hair back into a loose knot, stepped into my boots, grabbed my backpack, and pounded down the stairs.
    By the time I blew through the kitchen, Aunt Jo was already sitting at the table, a mug of coffee in her hands. “I’m leaving on a mountaineering trip to the Collegiates this morning,” she said offhandedly, narrowing her eyes to study me. I really wished I didn’t look so harried. It ruined the image I wanted to project: that I was fully capable of taking care of myself.
    “I’ll be back late Saturday,” she continued. “I’ll have my cell, but if you can’t get in touch, call the office. They can connect with satellite.”
    “I know the routine.” It was always the same whenever she took a group out. I poured coffee and about half a box of sugar into a