Mare's War Read Online Free PDF Page A

bed.
    Maybe Tali and I
are
spoiled.
    Mare looks over at me. “And do
you
need a car?”
    I bite my lip. I know the answer she wants me to give. “I don’t have a license,” I say finally.
    “And you don’t need one, either,” Mare says with a kind of grim satisfaction. “You girls are too young to be riding around in anyone’s cars. I know what kids get up to in the backseat.”
    “Mare!” Tali winces.
“Eew.”
    “I don’t even have a boyfriend,” I protest.
    Mare just shakes her head and continues poking along up the highway.
    It’s quiet for the next few miles, then Mare props her arm against the door and rubs her head like she has a headache brewing. A little pleat forms between her brows. “Octavia, get me another piece of gum, will you?” she asks.
    I dig into the menthol-scented depths of her purse. I push aside her hoard of red and white mints, her bottle of mouth spray, her plastic-wrapped pack of cigarettes, and her reading glasses until I find what I am looking for. I take a piece of gum for myself as well and tilt the package in Tali’s direction, but she waves it away.
    Mare and I chew in silence for a while, me thinking and Mare creeping up the highway behind a truck belching exhaust and filled with cows. I can’t keep my mind off of Mare’s story. What she told us about Toby bothers me—a lot. I would have hated to work for somebody like Miss Ida, every day, just to have money for a farm mortgage and food, stuff that wasn’t for me. I can’t imagine Tali trying to protect me from somebody all by herself—or that she’d even try, knowing how she hates me these days. I don’t know how Mare could do it.
    Tali sighs loudly and slides down in the backseat. She isn’t used to going so long without being able to shut out the sound of other people’s conversations. She faked like she wasn’t listening to Mare’s story, but I know she was; she justthinks she’s too cool to show it. Now she’s flopping around in the seat like a hooked fish.
    “Mare. If you told me where exactly we were going, I could just drive there. Do you want me to drive?” Tali asks suddenly.
    “What?” Mare sounds far away.
    “Tali,” I hiss, twisting around in my seat. Her rudeness embarrasses me.
    Ever since she started talking about the old days, Mare’s been slowing down. First she just changed lanes so people could pass her, but now she’s driving so slowly we’re getting passed by trucks. Eighteen-wheelers. We’re the slowest car in the slow lane.
    At first, I thought it was because she and Tali were messing with the radio and she’d slowed down to argue over music—Mare thinks anything that isn’t Ray Charles, Dinah Washington, Muddy Waters, or Fats Waller is playing fast and loose with the airwaves. But even after they settled on listening to one of Tali’s music choices to two of Mare’s, her driving still didn’t speed up. The thing is, I think talking about the olden days bothers Mare. You’d think Tali would catch a clue.
    “I said, do you want me to drive?” Tali glares back at me. “It’s been four hours, Mare. Dad said I should do half the driving, so I think I should drive now. We can switch off later or something.”
    On I-5, the only thing in the slow lane other than us is huge RVs and trucks full of cows. It reeks, and there’s hayand dust flying around everywhere. Right now I feel like I can walk faster than Mare is driving. I
would
walk, too, if it didn’t stink so bad, but Mare driving slow while she’s thinking is better than Mare driving fast any day. At least I think so.
    “Why would I want you to drive?” Mare asks thoughtfully, as if she’s just come back from someplace far away.
    “Because …” Tali exhales an explosive breath and shakes her head. “Just … because.”
    Mare laughs, a guttural, machine-gun chuckle that makes me nervous. “Going too slow for you, Miss Lady?”
    “Well, yeah,” Tali erupts, and throws up her hands. “I’m sorry, Mare,