How My Summer Went Up in Flames Read Online Free PDF

I go from anger to sadness to resignation. My parents and Matty are right. I can’t risk seeing him again before my court date.
    “Are you okay?” Lilliana finally asks.
    I take a deep breath and wait for my pulse to slow down. My new role as Joey’s crazy ex-girlfriend is anxiety inducing, depressing, and exhausting.
    “I’m not sure if I’m okay, but I will be.” I find a good song on the radio and turn it all the way up. “I’m leaving for Arizona in three days and I cannot wait.”
    Maybe saying it out loud will convince me it’s true.

Chapter 3
    On Saturday morning, I follow Matty and Eddie onto the front porch and into the predawn darkness. I’m feeling extra groggy because I had a hard time getting to sleep and wound up taking two teaspoons of Benadryl around two in the morning. It should have knocked me out, but instead I tossed and turned like I had a fever. I even dreamed I wandered around the house looking for my phone and sent Joey a message telling him to meet me in Phoenix on the Fourth of July. Thankfully, when I woke up, my phone was nowhere in sight. My parents probably have it in a lockbox somewhere until it’s time to transfer it to Matty. It felt so real, though. Craziness.
    I walk down the steps and cross the lawn. The grass is wet with that annoying early-morning dew, which is makingme sorry I wore flip-flops. The cicadas are chirping away and, wait . . . is that an owl? My parents follow us. Dad carries my bags; Mom clutches her coffee mug. She and I share a serious caffeine addiction. This morning, however, my stomach has that sickish first-day-of-school feeling, made worse by my antihistamine hangover. I would have thrown up if I drank or ate anything. Pony was disappointed. He knows I’m the one most likely to share my breakfast with him.
    It takes me a second to realize that the burgundy Taurus in Matty’s driveway is my ride. Could there be a less cool vehicle? It screams rental, not road trip. I’m still getting over the lame car when a guy gets out of the front seat and walks toward us in a Snoopy T-shirt that says PARTY LIKE A ROCK STAR . Oh, man.
    “Hi, I’m Spencer,” he says. No kidding.
    Matty’s mom walks toward us with a thin, dark-haired woman who I’m assuming is Spencer and Logan’s mom. I notice a forest-green Jeep at the curb that must belong to her. Now, that’s a road-trip-worthy ride. Spencer shakes everyone’s hand and Mrs. Davidson introduces herself as well. Except for several lengthy phone conversations between my mom and theirs (and probably a background check performedon the sly by one of my father’s state trooper buddies), this is the first time we’re all meeting. My parents are all smiles. Oh, I can read their minds all right. They’re thinking, Hallelujah! Rosie is going to Arizona with Matty and a member of the Peanuts gang. What could possibly go wrong? But then Logan, the answer to my parents’ silent, rhetorical question, gets out of the car. He’s wearing perfect-fitting jeans and a dark gray V-neck shirt. The short sleeves hug his biceps, which appear perpetually flexed. His torso is twice the size of Spencer’s, and he’s sporting a sexy five o’clock shadow that would take Matty three weeks to grow. I’m suddenly angry at myself for not bothering with mascara and eyeliner and fumble in my bag for my shades, even though the sun has yet to break the horizon. Thankfully, I did my hair. I always do my hair.
    “I’m Logan,” he says. Yes. Yes, you are! I’m thinking as he shakes everyone’s hand.
    “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of Rosie.” Logan smiles at my parents and then me, and I notice that he’s taller than all of us, even Matty.
    It’s like my heart rate and hormones heard the crack of the starting gun, and they’re off! No, no, no, I tell them. You two have gotten me in enough trouble already. But it feels good to temporarily not have Joey in my head.
    I look back toward our front door. Pony is watching