Gravestone Read Online Free PDF Page A

page from a magazine. A photograph of an ordinary road going into the woods. It looks like a colorful fall day. Could have been taken somewhere around here.
    At the bottom of the page is something written in black ink. In Jocelyn’s handwriting.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
     
    I’m pretty sure that’s a famous poem, but I don’t know who wrote it.
    This was in Jocelyn’s locker.
    So why is it suddenly in mine?
    As I close my door, I wonder what happened to the rest of her stuff.
    More than ever before, except maybe on that first day of stepping into a semester already halfway through, I feel eyes on me. Watching and waiting. Wondering when I’m finally going to give up.
    I think back to Jared’s parting words when he dropped me off.
    I’ll be in contact with you. That’s the way it has to be.
    I wonder when I’ll see him next.
    All I know is that I’m supposed to say and do nothing. Just go with the flow. And that’s what I’m doing.
    It takes half the day before I find Newt. At lunch I finally sit across from him and give him a look that I hope conveys what I’m thinking.
    A look that says If you don’t give me answers I’ll do exactly what Gus Staunch did to you that first day I saw you being smeared across the school hallway .
    “Lunch might be the worst place ever to talk about stuff,” he whispers as he smells his white-bread sandwich.
    “Do you know?”
    He looks one way, then the other. “I know enough.”
    I shake my head and motion my hands in a So what now? gesture. He takes a bite of the sandwich and then makes a face.
    “Well?” I ask.
    “Lunch is a time to eat.”
    “So when do I get the decoder that shows me how to look at the map to our secret meeting?”
    “Don’t get annoyed.”
    I laugh in disbelief. “This isn’t ‘annoyed.’”
    “I didn’t do anything.” He’s still talking in something barely above a mumble.
    “I’m way past being annoyed.”
    As Newt’s head moves up to face mine, I see his scar under the hard lighting of the cafeteria.
    “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re going to be stupid,” he says.
    “Newt, man …”
    “After school, okay?”
    “After school what?”
    “After school.”
    “I can’t just swing by your house, remember? I don’t have a ride.”
    “You won’t need a ride. Just—just meet me at the lockers and we’ll go from there.”
    “Go where?”
    He shakes his head and keeps eating.
    I look around the room that’s full of conversation and laughter, and I see Poe sitting at a different table than usual. Sitting by herself.
    I sit in the art room and wonder how in the world I’m going to learn anything about art in this little town and this dead-end school. This is a new elective I’m taking. Maybe I should have taken computers or shop class. The art teacher, Mr. Chestle, sure looks artsy as he goes on about something or other.
    I glance around the room to see if there’s anybody I know. I recognize some faces from other classes, but nobody I know by more than a first name. There are more girls in the class than guys. A few look like freshmen, or more like sixth graders who decided to visit the high school for the day. There’s that loudmouthed redheaded girl I generally try to avoid because she talks all the time. The hot dark-haired girl with her friends on either side. I need to avoid any and all hot dark-haired chicks from here on out until the end of my life. Which may be sooner than I think. There’s a blond girl with glasses who easily could be a librarian. Or a witch. A librarian witch.
    The blond is staring at me. She gives me a closed smile. As if she knows something.
    I don’t smile back. I think I probably look confused, irritated, maybe even a bit offended.
    She glances away, and I continue checking out the class.
    I look at the empty canvases all around the room just waiting to be filled.
    I totally know I’m one of