Don't Kiss Him Good-Bye Read Online Free PDF Page B

and literature teacher, Mrs. Beasley, took off her glasses and rubbed them clean as I took my seat in front of the entire class. I was still sucking wind after having run down the hallway.
    “Detention after school today,” she said, frowning.
    “I can’t come after school today.” The whole class eyeballed me.
    “Why not?”
    I sighed and told the truth. “I have detention with Mr. Thompson today.”
    She gave me the I’m extremely disappointed look, one I hadn’t been used to getting from teachers . . . until lately. She rubbed her tongue over her teeth, sighed, and finally said, “Very well. Tomorrow, then.”

Chapter 13

    Usually there was nothing like time with my family and at church to refresh my priorities. But the weekend had felt a little off for some reason. Both Louanne and Dad seemed to be coming down with something. Mom thought it was probably allergies because there were new plants blooming in England that neither of them had been exposed to before. Louanne seemed worse off than Dad, which was odd, because except for rabbits, cats, and horses, Dad typically had way more allergies than Louanne.
    Sunday the pastor preached through “One and Two” Corinthians. I thought that was cute. At home we’d have called it “First and Second” Corinthians.
    “Not riding horses in secret, are you?” I teased Louanne after she sniffled her way through church. “ National Velvet , maybe?” Ever since we’d moved to London, she’d idolized that movie. But as soon as I said it, Louanne got angry and left the room. Touchy, touchy . I wondered if she was just having a rough week or if something else was going on. She wasn’t usually so moody. When I was ten, there’d been a mean girl who’d picked on me for a couple of weeks. Was Louanne being bullied at school?
    On the way home, I turned on my phone and saw ten texts from Rhys asking where I was. I started texting him back when Louanne elbowed me.
    “What?” I was irritated—I’d made two typos. I hated making typos.
    “Dad just asked you a question.”
    I kept reading Rhys’s text, and before I could respond, a new one was incoming.
    “What do you want?” I asked. The car grew quiet. I felt the silence like ice in my bones.
    “Were you talking to m e ?” Dad asked. “Turn off the phone.”
    Great. I had a feeling I was going to pay for this later, with Rhys.
    “Sorry,” I said, not really feeling sorry. After all, Dad had interrupted my conversation.
    “Who were you texting?” Mom asked.
    “Rhys,” I said. I saw a look go between her and my dad. But neither said a word.

Chapter 14

    As I headed out the door on Monday morning, I noticed Mom’s geraniums were starting to pop to life in the flower boxes. The streets were slick with the remembrance of last night’s rain, and the world smelled cool and fresh and new. And I have to admit, I had another reason for hope. Last night I’d thought of a wonderful plan.
    Before first period I stopped in the newspaper office. Natalie was hard at work at “her” desk, and Melissa and Jack were at theirs.
    I stood behind Natalie and asked, “Did you get my e-mail about the May Day stuff?”
    Natalie kept typing; she didn’t even pause when she responded. “I’m thinking about it, Savvy. I’m just not sure how I want my article to shape up yet. I’ll let you know. Send the history of May Day when you can, okay? As for Be@titude, I’m not interested in that religious stuff.”
    I rolled my eyes. Helping low-income mothers was religious stuff?
    I headed to first period, restored to Mr. Thompson’s good graces because I’d scored 100 percent on a quiz the day after my detention. He’d been good enough not to suggest that the extra studying at detention had been what pushed me over. We got to work in groups that morning, and I headed over to Hazelle.
    “How’s the romance coming?” I asked.
    She blushed deeply. I was shocked. I’d never seen her blush. She was a no-nonsense reporter.