Hurt: A Novel (Solitary Tales Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

bring. My mind is going over Poe’s words.
    Has your back … Not a she … love his M&Ms.
    The last bit is a clue, of course.
    I haven’t even reached my locker when I finally realize how not-so-subtle that clue is.
    I figure this out when my history teacher passes me by with a smile and a “Welcome back, Chris.”
    I just say hi to Mr. Meiners like always and keep heading to my locker.
    M&Ms.
    Then I stop.
    Mr. Meiners.
    I wonder if it’s that easy.
    Suddenly things fall into place.
    The time I saw Mr. Meiners holding a crying Jocelyn in his arms. A crying yet laughing Jocelyn.
    Was this because she had gone to him for answers? Was this because she’d started finding some?
    Then I think of him grabbing me in the hallway after a run-in with Gus. His telling me to see the bigger picture, saying that I’m not some stupid kid, that I’m different.
    But how does he know?
    I know that I have to contact Poe, first to apologize for not responding to any of her emails.
    Then to ask for her help.

10. When You Smile
    These students who don’t have a clue move through hallways that are long bored with them, and in the middle of them I see Kelsey. Walking toward me, smiling.
    And like that, I know.
    This is my reason here, my meaning and my motive.
    I have to do the one thing I haven’t been able to do so far.
    I have to be her hero.
    I have to save her.
    For Jocelyn, it was too late.
    For Lily, it was too late.
    For my mother, the verdict is still out.
    But Kelsey is still there, still smiling, still hopeful.
    Don’t you dare let that hope die, Kelsey.
    I want to box it up with her and mail it to a place with no forwarding address.
    “Hi, Chris.”
    I want to save that hi and be able to hear it many mornings from now when I can do something with it.
    “Hi,” I say back.
    I’m not letting you go or giving up or being stupid or being nonchalant.
    Kelsey is not going to get away.
    No way.
    Not this time.

11. In the End
    I don’t go home after school. Instead, I ride my motorcycle to Jeremiah Marsh’s house.
    It’s a Monday afternoon. If he’s not home, then I’ll wait for him. Maybe Heidi will be there and will let me in. Maybe she’ll serve me poisoned lemonade or drugged cider.
    Maybe you should pass on a beverage.
    The house looks more ominous somehow in the disappearing sunlight. My face and hands are numb from riding on the bike in the January chill. I need to get some gloves, maybe a ski mask. Then I can start robbing banks and have a nice quick getaway.
    I knock on the door, not expecting it to open. But it does, quickly, and standing at the doorway as if he could read my mind is Pastor Marsh.
    For a moment he looks at me as if confused.
    “Are you, uh, busy?” I ask.
    I still feel the need to be polite. I mean, he’s still an adult and I still have manners and maybe I’m interrupting something like a goat sacrifice or a moose-head stuffing.
    “You look well,” he says. “A bit too well.”
    I’m not really following what he’s saying. My heart is beating hard, and I’m feeling like I might turn around and sprint back to my motorcycle any second.
    “Staunch told me what happened. He said he left you in a mess.”
    “I heal quickly.”
    Marsh raises his eyes. “So you do. Please, come on in.”
    The place is the same. Spotless and looking like a model house that nobody lives in.
    Marsh looks a lot like the house. He’s wearing dark pants and a sweater with a shirt underneath. All matching and new like a mannequin in the window of a clothing store.
    Or like the one in the storage room in the church basement.
    “Can I get you anything to drink? Hungry?”
    “Where’s my mom?”
    “She’s fine,” he says.
    No surprise at my question. No hesitation at his answer.
    “She’s fine where?”
    “Why don’t you have a seat?” Marsh asks.
    “I’ll do what you want, but I want my mother back.”
    He looks serious as he takes off his glasses, wipes them, and slips them back on. He looks at