All the Way Read Online Free PDF Page B

he’d apologize or at least try to make nice and drive me home. But he didn’t. He just sat there, leaning against the backseat with his arms draped across it, like he didn’t plan to move anytime soon. And he glared at me—like he was the injured party or something!
    Furious, I whirled around and hiked out of the parking lot. I couldn’t believe this.
    When I was partway down Willow Drive, I heard his car engine start up.
    Okay, at least he’s sorry, I thought. He’ll pull up beside me and explain that he lost his head because he’s so pissed at Molly for dumping him, and he took his anger and aggression out on the wrong person. He’ll seem so sincere that I’ll climb into the car and he’ll drive me home, and he won’t even try to kiss me good night. Then he’ll call me the next day, and we’ll go out again, and this time he’ll be the perfect gentleman. A week later, he’ll ask me to the prom . . .
    The sound of his Mustang roaring past me, spitting gravel, without even slowing down one bit, snapped me out of that lunatic daydream.
    Shit.
    So much for my fantasies of going to Norton’s prom. Maybe going to my old school’s prom with Ben Sarber the spitter wasn’t such a bad option after all.

Chapter 3
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    Thank God for Uggs, that’s all I can say.
    At least my feet weren’t too sore from the three-mile walk home. I happen to know it was three miles because I clocked it in my mom’s car a few days later, just to settle an argument with Ariel, who claimed it couldn’t be more than a mile, tops.
    I probably could have called Ariel and asked her to come pick me up, but I was too mad to even think of it.
    Anyway, I guess the walk was sort of good for me—it must have worked off some of that adrenaline, because I wasn’t quite as furious by the time I got home. I mean, sure, I was pissed at Joey. He’d been a complete ass on so many different levels. But some guys are animals. So what else is new?
    When I got home, I didn’t call Rachel to give her all the gory details about my date. I figured the news could wait till the next day.
    On Sunday morning I slept late instead of going to church with my parents. It was the one time the house was totally quiet—no circular saws buzzing, no nail gun banging away—and I liked to take advantage of it. When I finally dragged out of bed at 11:30, the house was still empty, so I took my phone into the upstairs bathroom, filled our new spa tub with my favorite White Musk Bubble Bath, and got in. I soaked for a while. Then I called Rachel. The phone rang only once, and she answered without even saying hello.
    â€œSo how was it?” she asked. Of course she knew my caller ID.
    â€œ Urghh . Pretty much awful,” I said with a sigh. “No, that’s not right. It was fun for a while, but then he turned into Pushy Groper Boy, and I had to walk home all the way from the lake.”
    â€œHold on, back up. That’s like the summary on the back of the DVD,” Rachel said. “I want the whole movie. Give me details.”
    I leaned back in the tub and replayed the whole date fast-forward in my mind.
    â€œWell, he was sweet at first,” I said, thinking about the early part of the evening. “And it was a definite rush showing up at the game with such a hot guy. And the whole school was there, and I mean everyone was checking us out. But I think that was part of his agenda, using me to make Molly jealous, although we had fun and laughed a lot . . .”
    â€œSo do you like him?” Rachel said. “I mean, did the Groper Boy thing kill the deal? Or are you going to go out with him again?”
    â€œI had to walk home from the lake !” I repeated, my voice rising. “What, are you crazy? No, I’m not going out with him again!”
    â€œCalm down. It was just a question,” Rachel said.
    â€œYeah, okay. But no way.