House at the End of the Street Read Online Free PDF Page A

long, winding road ahead. Just then there was a loud, rippling crack of thunder, and the rain came down much harder then before. Within seconds she was completely drenched. She glanced into the car, where Ryan was still waiting. His head was tilted to one side, as if to say,
Really? You REALLY want to walk?
    She clenched her fists together, annoyed at Sarah for having to work tonight, at Tyler for groping her, at Caitlin for throwing her out of the party. Now she was here, standing in the pouring rain, trying to decide whether or not to take a ride from an orphaned loner. Without thinking, she pulled open the door and slid inside, pushing the books out of the way.
    They drove in silence for the first minute or two, the windshield wipers providing the only soundtrack. The old car was actually pretty cool, with wide leather seats and a deep dashboard. A few cassettes were stacked up on the seat, as if it were still 1989. A thin gold locket hung from the rearview mirror, and there was a yellow lunchbox on the floor by her feet.
    He had a few Hemingway novels beside him, half spilling out of a knapsack, along with a massive biology textbook. She studied him, his small brown eyes and chiseled features. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-one. As she watched him he kept his eyes on the road, not saying anything. Had the Reynoldses been right? Was there something wrong with him? How could he stand to live in that run-down house alone, knowing his parents were murdered there?
    The silence was unbearable. The windshield wipers squeaked; the rain came down sideways, pummeling the car. After a few minutes, Elissa couldn’t take it any longer. “So why do you still live in that house?”
    Ryan let out a long breath, and Elissa immediately felt guilty. “I guess I shouldn’t have said that,” she tried, hoping they could erase the last minute, just pretend it had never happened.
    “You just said what you were thinking,” Ryan offered. “That’s all anybody can think about when they’re around me anyway. My family sent me away when I was seven, and at first that house was all I had left of them. But actually living there has been too hard. I’ve decided to fix it up and then sell it.”
    Elissa ran her fingers over the seat, pushing them down into the leather. Why did she have to go there? One minute they were driving in perfect silence, the next they were talking about how his parents sent him away. Still, itmade her feel the slightest bit better than he didn’t enjoy living there. He wasn’t the strange loner the Reynoldses painted him as, lurking about, sleeping in the bed where his father was bludgeoned to death.
    Ryan turned to her and smiled. “I heard you singing this morning. It was nice. Are you in a band or something?”
    She let out a breath, relieved they were back on track. Her looked different—kinder, sweeter—when he smiled. “Yeah, I played guitar a lot back in Chicago,” she explained. “My dad is in a band too, though I hardly ever see him. He’s always on tour.” She rifled through the cassettes in the center console, seeing if he had anything worthwhile.
    “Man, these are old.” She laughed, looking at the worn labels, some from the 1980s. “You gotta get some new music.”
    Ryan smiled. “This car was my dad’s. Those were his.” He looked at her for a long beat, noticing her the way Luca had all those months before. His eyes ran over her lips, her soaking wet tank top, the curly blond tendrils that were now stuck to her wet cheeks.
    “So, are you and your mom here in Woodshire to stay?” he finally asked.
    She looked away, noticing the Magic Eight Ball key chain dangling from the ignition. She reached for it, her hand just inches from his leg. She turned it over and smiled. “All signs point to yes.”
    Ryan laughed, and for the first time she wondered ifthere was something more to him, this boy who everyone described as a loner. He kept glancing sideways at her, then back at the