Fractured Light Read Online Free PDF Page B

echoed over his voice as he picked it up.
    “You don’t want to know her, trust me. She’s a psycho,” Mike said.
    I gritted my teeth. Great. People think I belong in an insane asylum.
    “She is not,” May’s voice defended. “She’s one of the nicest people I know.”
    “What about me?” Adam asked.
    “See you guys later,” Christian told them.
    Having great hearing has its perks, but there were times I wished I were deaf.
    Christian returned to my table and sat down. “Adam’s my cousin,” he said as he carefully unwrapped his chicken sandwich.
    I swallowed the bite in my mouth. “Huh?”
    “You asked me how I knew Adam. He’s my cousin on my mother’s side. We used to hang out a lot before his family moved here four years ago.”
    “Oh.”
    “What about you? Do you have family around?”
    Yikes. Personal questions. Definitely not a direction I wanted to go. I shrugged. “Not sure. So May tells me you’re going to be the new quarterback?”
    He shrugged. “I guess. I told coach I’d play whatever position, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Alex is pretty mad.”
    “He’ll get over it. Why did you move here?” A fly buzzed near my face. I flicked my wrist at it.
    “My dad’s work.”
    “What does he do?” I swiped at the fly again when it landed on my arm.
    “He buys businesses that are in trouble and then makes them profitable again. Something like that. I’m not real sure.”
    “What about your mom?”
    His eyes fell; the color changed to a melancholy blue, the shade of great sadness. I recognized it because I’d seen the same color in my own eyes.
    “She died when I was three. Cancer. My dad never remarried.”
    I stopped a french fry moving to my mouth. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry any more. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard.”
    “At times.” He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed quietly. From across the room May’s high-pitched, chipmunk-like giggle broke the silence.
    “That’s some laugh,” Christian said, smiling again. His eyes returned to normal, the sadness pushed back to wherever he kept it hidden. But sadness like that never leaves you.
    I nodded. “It’s contagious.”
    “So what about you? What does your dad do?”
    The fly returned. I frowned as it completed an aerial swoop toward my half-eaten burger. Suddenly Christian’s hand shot through the air like a missile. He caught the fly between his thumb and forefinger.
    I gasped. “That was fast!”
    He wrapped the fly in a napkin with as much delicacy as he had unwrapped his chicken sandwich. “Not really. My dad is faster.”
    “Do you two catch flies often?” I mused.
    “When the fish aren’t biting. Whoever catches the most wins a prize.”
    “Have you ever won?”
    “Not once, but I’m getting close.”
    “What’s the prize?”
    “I’m lucky if it’s a bag of chips.”
    “Your life sucks.”
    He laughed, nodding. “I know, right?”
    We continued talking. I could tell he was trying to get to know me, but little did he realize that I’d practically written the rules of the dodging-personal-questions game. Every time he asked one, I countered back, sending the conversation into a different direction.
    I was really racking up the points, until he asked, again, “So where did you grow up? I don’t think you answered me.”
    I reacted quickly. “Yes, I did. Remember? The sky?”
    “Wait, what?” He looked totally confused. “You grew up in the sky?”
    I laughed. “No, you were talking about your trip to Mexico over the summer and how a bad storm ruined it. Did you guys have to come home early?”
    “Yeah, we got stuck at the airport.”
    I leaned back in my seat and smiled as Christian told me all about his nightmare at the airport.
    “You two seem to be having fun,” May said, approaching our table with Adam in tow. “You about done?” she asked me.
    I picked up my water and took a long sip. “I’m done.”
    From the door, Mike called, “When you’re done with freak-girl,