Deadly Little Voices Read Online Free PDF

went about three inches above the knee. I remember trying to appear engrossed in my work, but I couldn’t help noticing the way your backside stretched the fabric of the skirt, the way the length rode up every couple minutes, and how you kept trying to tug at the hem, most likely regretting your choice of outfits. You probably could’ve chosen a size or two up, but I was really glad that you didn’t.

    It was getting late, just a few minutes before closing time. Could you tell that I was nervous? Did you see me fumble in my pocket for the trinket I’d brought along for you? The piece of sea glass. I’m sure you’ve heard what the media is saying-that I’d given similar pieces to girls who came before you. It’s disgusting the way that people try to cheapen what can only boil down to a lack of creativity. Why does no one question it when a guy gives all his past and current girlfriends roses or candy? Why are such gifts not considered devices as well?

    Regardless, please know that I could never have compared you to any of the other girls.
    You were-and will forever remain-far more special than any of them. Which is why I knew you’d love it. Which is how I knew you’d love me.

    …

    Dear Jack:

    It was a Monday. I remember because it was also a holiday (a long weekend) and I was off from school, working the morning shift.

    I wore a skirt that day, and I kept checking my reflection against the stainless fridge, wondering if it made my hips look wider than they already were, or emphasized my chunky knees.

    You sat at your usual table at the back of the coffee shop, studying from that Romantics book. I held my breath and ventured to imagine you were thinking about me as you read it.

    Finally, when the crowd at the shop had thinned out and my line had gone down, you glanced up from your notebook and smiled in my direction before coming up to the counter and asking me what I thought you should order.

    I remember how self-conscious I felt, hoping you didn’t notice all the freckles on my cheeks, or that my nose was way too long for my face. “What do you like?” I asked.

    “You know what I like.” Your grin was lethal—straight white teeth, pale full lips, startling blue eyes.

    I turned my back and started to pour a glass of iced coffee, almost wishing that you’d just sit back down. But then you muttered that you got me something, and I swear my heart all but stopped.

    You reached into your pocket and pulled out a piece of sea glass. “I was combing the beach this morning and spotted it,” you said, handing it to me.

    Turquoise, diamond-shaped, and brilliant, it took up half of my palm.

    “I couldn’t believe it myself,” you continued. “I mean, it was just sitting there, sticking out from a pile of kelp. I almost didn’t see it, but something told me to take a closer look. That’s when I noticed what a beauty it was.”

    “A beauty,” I echoed, hearing the question in my voice. You must’ve heard it too.

    “So beautiful,” you said, closing my fingers around the piece, and then taking my hand in yours.

    Did you notice how my lips parted? And how I took a step back? I couldn’t imagine you were truly saying what it sounded like you were saying. Because why would you ever say that?

    “It reminded me of you,” you said, still holding my hand. I wondered if you could feel the sweat in my palm. “Can I ask you something?” you continued.

    I nodded, wanting desperately to believe you—to believe the moment, to believe your sincerity. But I honestly didn’t know how.

    Before you could utter another syllable, Carl ordered me to help Dee out in the storage room“It’s a real mess back there.”

    When I turned to answer him, I felt your hand slip away. “Can it wait a second?” I looked back in your direction, but you were no longer there.

    Your back toward me, you collected your books from the table, and then headed out the door without saying good-bye.

    …

    KIMMIE CALLS WHILE