Heartstopper Read Online Free PDF Page B

heels digging into the shapeless form of the prone harridan at her feet, as the monstroussized girl reached for another chicken, this one alive and squawking.
    Sandy closed the notebook, returned it to Greg without comment. Her heart was beating wildly. But it was important to appear calm, she was thinking, even as she felt a scream rising in her throat. “Tanya,” she said, suppressing both the scream and the threat of tears as she turned her attention to one of the prettiest girls at Torrance High. “Could we hear from you, please?” Sandy forced a smile onto her lips, gratified by how unruffled she’d managed to sound.
    Tanya McGovern rose in her seat. Along with Ginger Perchak, who sat two seats over and to the left, and the absent Liana Martin, who normally sat directly behind her, the three girls formed the most popular clique in school. The boys fought for their attention. The other girls emulated their hairstyles, clothes, and attitudes. Even Sandy’s normally sensible seventeen-year-old daughter, Megan, had recently fallen under their spell. At home it was always, Tanya this, and Ginger that. Sandy shuddered, wondering how long it would be before Megan requested a MOVE, BITCH T-shirt, like the one Liana had been wearing yesterday. Where are the parents? she wondered, as she had wondered earlier.
    “I’m afraid I didn’t exactly get around to writing in my diary, Mrs. Crosbie.”
    Sandy nodded, acknowledging defeat. “Okay, Tanya. You can sit down.”
    The girl quickly complied.
    “All right. It looks as if you’ve all got a busy night ahead of you,” Sandy told them. “In addition to writing two journal entries—and handing them in at the start of tomorrow’s class—there’ll be a test on the first chapter of
Cry, the Beloved Country.
Anyone who is absent or who fails to complete the assignment will receive a zero.”
    A cascade of groans rumbled toward Sandy’s desk. “What if we’re sick?” someone whined from the back of the room.
    “Don’t be.”
    “What if we get a note from Dr. Crosbie?” Joey Balfour asked. Once again, several gasps punctuated the laughter that followed.
    Mercifully, the bell sounded. Immediately the students jumped to their feet, began fleeing the room. Sandy remained where she was, praying her feet would support her until everyone was gone. “Tanya,” she managed to spit out as the girl was hurrying by.
    “Yes, Mrs. Crosbie?”
    “Maybe you could tell Liana about tomorrow’s assignment?”
    “Sure thing, Mrs. Crosbie.”
    “And, Greg,” Sandy added, catching him at the door. “Could I talk to you a minute, please?”
    Greg backed away from the door, slowly retraced his steps.
    “Catch you later, buddy,” Joey Balfour said on his way out. He winked at Sandy. “Be gentle.”
    “I’m sorry about those drawings,” Greg began. “Obviously I didn’t mean for you to see them.”
    “Then you might consider leaving them at home next time you come to class.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “You might also consider applying to art college after you graduate,” Sandy continued, as Greg’s eyes shot to hers. “You have talent. Real talent. It should be developed.”
    “We’re a family of truck farmers, Mrs. Crosbie,” Greg said, blushing at the compliment, then brushing it aside. “I don’t think my father would take too kindly to a son who draws cartoons for a living.”
    “Well … something to think about anyway.”
    “We’re not exactly big thinkers,” Greg said with a wink. He started back toward the door.
    “Greg …?”
    Again he stopped, swiveled around on the worn heels of his brown leather boots.
    “Go easy on Delilah, would you?”
    A sly grin skewered Greg’s generically handsome face. The door to the portable opened, and Greg Watt disappeared in a flash of morning sun.

THREE
    D eputy Sheriff John Weber sat behind the massive oak desk in his small office and leaned back in his uncomfortable, hunter-green leather chair. The chair was