His Eyes Read Online Free PDF Page A

through tech school. “Hey, I called you on Saturday; your mom probably forgot to tell you. She said you were at an interview. How’d it go?”
    I shrugged. “Good. Well, I got the job, but there’s a catch.”
    “Yeah?” Her burger ended its trek toward her mouth in midair. “What?”
    I tried to hold back my smile because I knew she would flip. “He’s our age.”
    “Seriously?! No way ! Why’d his parents hire you?” Ahna paused, considering. “Wait, is he hot?” I glared at her and she squinted back at me. “Aim....”
    “What?” I snapped.
    “Amy Rose Turner,” she leaned forward, looking truly concerned, “you are blushing.”
    I slammed my can down a little too hard and it splattered onto the table. I blurted, “He’s blind !”
    “He’s— really ? So you’re, like, his nurse?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at me. Sometimes I wonder why she’s my friend.
    “ Shut up , Ahna! It’s not like that!”
    She laughed at me. “What’s it like?”
    I sighed and wiped up the pop with a napkin. “He’s rich and his mom’s paying me to help him out—take him places. On Thursday I’m taking him to his rehearsal.”
    Ahna’s mouth fell open. “You suck! She’s paying you to date an actor?”
    “No!” I rolled my eyes. “It’s a rehearsal for his graduation from Clarence.”
    “Figures the little Clarencites would get out early,” she grumbled. “Wouldn’t want to be late to the beach house in Florida.”
    “They’re not that bad,” I said defensively.
    “Tell me that after you meet them.” Her brown eyes latched onto me. “Wait. How much did you say you’re getting paid?”
    I quickly forced a fork-full of food into my mouth and mumbled the offending price: “$20 an hour.”
    “Ah ha ! No wonder they’re ‘not that bad,’” she cackled victoriously before actually comprehending what I’d said. With the realization, her face nearly fell off. “$20 an hour ? Man, you better find some way to kill time with—what’s his name?”
    “Tristan.”
    “Tristan! Lay one on him if you have to.” Ahna dramatically clasped a hand over her heart. “I’m telling you this as your best friend who desperately wants you to room with her next year so she doesn’t end up sleeping next to a psychopath. And, Aim, you’re blushing again.”
    I glowered.
    “Not everyone can be the next world famous oboe player,” she said, referring to her own scholarship and reason for going to Evanston. “You may have to make sacrifices...like kissing a hot boy.”
    I ignored her last comment. “Ahna, there aren’t any famous oboe players.”
    “Bite your tongue. Orchestras tune to us .” Ahna tore into her burger and chewed thoughtfully. “But, about Thursday, isn’t this Charlie Week?”
    I covered my face with my hands. She was right! It was Charlie Week! How could I forget? Charlie left home when I was about Chris’s age, so I’d basically been raised as an only child; much to the annoyance of Ahna, who was number three of four girls. Every year, on the anniversary week of his leaving—which Ahna and I’d dubbed “Charlie Week”—my mom set a special place at dinner for him each night.
    I brushed my hair behind my ears and began, “I haven’t missed a Charlie dinner in ten years. What would one—”
    Ahna cut me off, “Seriously, Amy, your mom would freak ! You’re the same age Charlie was when he left. Think about it.”
    “I know !” I groaned and stared up at the asbestos ceiling tiles.
    “Is there any way you can eat and still make it to the rehearsal?” she offered.
    I sighed. “I’m supposed to be at the Edmunds’ at six thirty and we usually eat at six.”
    Ahna laughed and looked at my almost-full plate of salad. She shouted over the ringing dismissal bell, “Better work on your gorging skills!”

Chapter 4
     
    “Dear Charlie, I’m sure you haven’t even gotten my last letter yet, but I just want to let you know that you’re ruining my life. Again.