Bull's Eye Read Online Free PDF Page A

into the sunshine. I start to cry as I walk to the bus stop. I cry as the bus crosses the bridge to downtown. I cry when I buy a Starbucks Frappuccino. I cry as I walk back to the Y. People turn away from me as if I’m spraying bird flu germs all over them. I have no Kleenex, so I use my sleeve to mop up the snot. I wish Tina was here with her cool washcloth. When I finally get back to my room, she’s the only person I can think of to call, but all I get is her voice mail. I leave a message asking her to meet me tomorrow. Then I climb between the thin sheets and cry myself to sleep.

Chapter Seven
    I meet Tina the next afternoon at a café on Robson where a cute barista decorates my latte foam with a wobbly heart. I wish I was more inclined to flirt, but all I can mumble is a lame “Awesome. Thanks” as he lingers by our table.
    Tina is wearing the same clothes as before, and there are purple shadows under her eyes. She brushes off my questions about Tom, although she does admit heparties a lot and there’s no food in his kitchen. Just a lot of booze.
    â€œThe sooner I get my own place, the better,” she says, “but everything’s so expensive here. I had no idea. I’m probably going to have to live in, I dunno, Surrey. Or find a shared house closer in. It’ll work out, though.” She sips her undecorated black coffee. I wish I’d thought to order her a latte. She needs a foam heart as much as I do. Maybe more.
    â€œYou sounded pretty upset on your message. Did you find your dad?” she asks.
    â€œSort of,” I say. I stab my latte’s heart with a wooden stir stick. “He’s dead. Which makes me an orphan, I guess. Little Orphan Emily. And no Daddy Warbucks in sight.”
    â€œHow did you find out that he was dead?”
    â€œHis son told me. His very cute son, Mike Junior. My brother. Or half-brother, I should say.”
    â€œNo way,” Tina says. She slams her mugonto the table and spills the coffee. “You’ve got a brother. That’s great!”
    The cute barista zooms over with a rag and mops up the spreading pool of coffee. He must have been keeping an eye on us, which makes me feel both annoyed and pleased. He refills Tina’s mug and flashes a dazzling smile in my direction before heading back behind the counter.
    â€œHe’s flirting with you,” Tina says with a giggle. “He’s cute. Excellent ass.”
    â€œAt least he’s not related to me,” I say. “Mike flirted with me too. It was weird. I almost flirted back. But then I kept thinking how grossed out he’d be when he found out I was his half-sister.”
    â€œSo you’re going to tell him?” Tina asks.
    I groan and put my head in my hands. “I don’t know. Should I?”
    Tina leans over and touches my arm. “You don’t have to decide right this minute, you know. He’s not going anywhere, right? Tell me about your dad.”
    So I tell her everything that Mike toldme. That our dad would bust out singing anywhere, anytime. That he made sure the regulars at the Bull’s Eye didn’t drive drunk. That he always sang “Some Enchanted Evening” to his wife on her birthday. As I talk, it finally sinks in that my father was a real person, not an anonymous sperm-donor. He was a real person who never knew I existed, didn’t know what color my baby poop was, how I got lost at the mall, how I won the English prize in seventh grade.
    When I finish talking, I’m crying again and Tina is fishing in her purse for more Kleenex.
    â€œHe sounds like a good guy,” she says as my sniffles subside.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œYour dad, I mean, but Mike too. They both sound like good guys.”
    â€œGood guys don’t sleep with their students and cheat on their wives,” I state.
    â€œEven good guys make mistakes,” Tina says gently. “at least you have a bit moreinformation now. You