A Season for Fireflies Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’ll be in the water.
    He lifts his hand to my cheek and one of my tears rolls over his fingers.
    â€œIt’s not a secret. You don’t have to hide it. Especially not from me.”
    Now our chests are touching. My heart is pounding so hard, I’m surprised his shirt isn’t vibrating from the force.
    Wes slips his hand behind my head. He pulls me forward, just slightly, angling his head. I want to kiss him so badly that it makes my breath shudder. He hesitates before our lips touch. His eyes examine my face and I can barely see his blue eyes through the tears.
    â€œI don’t want the first time we kiss to be when you’re crying, Penny,” he whispers. “Just tell me what’s going on.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” I say. I know this is for the best.
    In my head, I invent a scenario where Mom is in the passenger seat of Dad’s car with a small designer bag filled with some sweaters and a small bottle of perfume. She is going to the rehab facility where she won’t know anyone. The nurses won’t know she likes a half of grapefruit for breakfast. She likes honey and sugar on her grapefruit too but it has to be just right . She tells me that I’m the only one who gets the ratio just how she likes it. A surge of love for Mom overwhelms me.
    Wes lets out a frustrated sigh. “You know, if you don’t start telling people what’s wrong, it’ll eat you up. One day you’ll be exactly like your mom,” he says. His words sting. I pull back and wipe a tear away.
    â€œYou don’t know a damn thing about my mom,” I say.
    He’s hurt. “I didn’t mean—”
    â€œJust go.”
    He says nothing further. Just walks up the dock to the street. I wish I could rewind this whole day, so I’m not angry with Wes too, but what he said is exactly why I can’t say anything.
    I can’t tell him what he wants to hear, and he shouldn’t have to pull the truth out of me. And the truth is that I don’t want to be the person I’ve always been. I don’t want to be the girl who leaps into a room and always gets the lead in every play, who comes alive when everyone is watching her. I don’t feel like that girl anymore.
    It’s better here in a different kind of light—I look up to the moonlight shining down on the water and the dock. The stars twinkle above—far away and untouchable. My gut aches at the memory of Wes’s planetarium. He wants to give me the stars, but I don’t want people to try to fix me.
    The truth is simple:
    I want to be out of the spotlight.
    For good.

THREE
    A SURPRISING LATE-MORNING THUNDERSTORM IS pouring rain down so thick that most people have pulled over to the side of the road. I made it from the track to my car in just a minute but am soaked through so my shorts and now the car seat are totally drenched. Steam rises from the hot asphalt and as I pull out of the parking lot, I’m reminded of a time on the beach with Mom and Dad. The clouds came up as fast as I’d ever seen them and the sky opened up, pouring down on people’s lunches and towels. Didn’t seem to bother the seagulls though, who ate all the leftover sandwiches and chips.
    My phone is silent as I make my way home. In the past week, no one has reached out to me much. Not May, notPanda, and definitely not Wes.
    Again, I’m driving with just my permit. At this point, following the rules is pretty low on my list of stuff to care about. Dad has been in the office more than ever since Mom entered the rehab facility. The person I see most consistently is Bettie, who makes breakfast for Dad and me every morning. We can’t see Mom for a few days but I’ve talked to her a couple of times on the phone. I never mention what she confessed that other night—why she drinks.
    I take the long way home down Diamond Hill Road so I don’t have to drive past school. It’s the second night of