A Season for Fireflies

A Season for Fireflies Read Online Free PDF Page B

Book: A Season for Fireflies Read Online Free PDF
Author: Rebecca Maizel
like an oaf.
    â€œThanks,” she says with a sigh, and hangs up. “My mother is a beast but she’s calling Triple A for me.”
    I want to tell her I know all about beasts, but Kylie leans back in the seat, crossing one dirty leg over the other, and says,“God, I hate my car. Is this a Lexus?”
    â€œUm, yeah. My mom’s old car.”
    â€œJesus, you’re lucky.”
    â€œI’m not technically supposed to be driving for another week.”
    â€œAre you a Cancer?” she says, and jumps in her seat a little.
    â€œYes?” I say after a moment of trying to keep up with her.
    â€œMe too! June twenty-seventh.”
    â€œTwenty-fourth,” I say. We’re both driving when we shouldn’t be, and smile.
    â€œAren’t you going to get in trouble with Triple A for driving without a licensed driver?” I ask.
    She ignores my question and continues to check out my car, flipping the visor up and down, and I keep thinking she’ll get out eventually and go back to her car, but she doesn’t. Instead, she plugs her cell phone into my car charger.
    â€œAren’t you in the play or something?” she asks.
    â€œI was. I . . .” I somehow think telling Kylie I quit anything is only going to make this more awkward.
    â€œI used to be in theater,” she says. “When I was little. My mom took me to some of the plays you were in at Ocean State.” She means Ocean State Theater Company, where I first met May and Panda and was a kid actor in every free minute of my summers. I didn’t meet Wes until eighth grade. “I wanted to be you,” she adds.
    What? I laugh, tipping my head back. “Are you kidding?”
    I’m pretty sure everyone wants to be Kylie Castelli. Head of radio broadcasting at our school, dance committee treasurer, most likely to achieve greatness with a perfect tan.
    â€œAnyway, I thought you’d be with your usual gaggle,” she says.
    â€œMy gaggle? Don’t you usually travel in a pack?”
    She laughs. “Touché.” She leans forward and touches the Globe Theatre sticker on my dash with a fingertip. Her nails are a mess of chipped polish. “I went to the Globe in London,” she says. I must seem surprised. “What?” she says. “I like culture. I don’t have to memorize lines like you do to love the theater. It’s not my thing anymore, but it’s still cool.” She lifts her eyes to me with a tiny smile. “Okay, my mom made me go when we went on a trip there. But I liked it!” she says through laughter.
    Kylie texts something on her phone quickly. I look to my hands because I don’t have anyone to text. I’m not sorry I quit the play. I’m sorry that I’ve been blowing off May and Panda and Wes’s calls.
    â€œShit, did I offend you? Words fly out of my mouth. I’m always doing damage control,” Kylie says.
    I shake my head. “No,” I say. “It’s just . . .”
    She looks over at me, waiting. Kylie isn’t afraid of anything. She rolls her hand, gesturing for me to go on.
    â€œI quit the play,” I admit.
    â€œ You? Miss I Do Monologues on Command in the Hallway?”
    â€œYeah . . . it hasn’t been my best week.”
    â€œIs it because your mom got sent to rehab?”
    I drop my head. “Yep. That’s part of it. Guess you know from the news.”
    â€œEveryone knows. Fuck!” Kylie cries and the sound in the car echoes, even with the rain lightening up. “I am so tired ofthis town!” She brings her feet up against the dash and slaps her hands against her wet legs. “Aren’t you?”
    I nod. Her energy is infectious and I want to scream and curse and put my feet up on the dash, too.
    â€œWhatever happened,” she says gently, “I am sure you had your reasons.”
    She’s not going to push. She’s not hawk-eyeing me and I again nod, but
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