Modern Monsters (Entangled Teen) Read Online Free PDF Page A

particular has always treated me like an affectionate mother would. Maybe that’s part of the reason my mom hates her.
    In his room, Brett flicks on the bedside lamp while I shut the door and stand there helplessly, not even sure where to begin. In typical concerned Brett fashion, he sits me on the edge of his bed, hands on my shoulders, and stares at me intently. “Deep breaths, Vic. Take your time.”
    Sometimes that’s all I need: a reminder that the world isn’t going to implode if I take a few extra moments to formulate each word as I speak. I close my eyes and take the instructed deep breaths…
    I tell Brett about the police. About Callie. I tell him about Mom, too, because I don’t know if maybe I’m the one overreacting and her response was legitimate. Brett listens and nods, his frown deepening as I speak. When I’m done relaying this information, I’m sapped of all my energy. I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry. Frankly, I’m still waiting to wake up.
    Brett sinks into his desk chair and leans back. He slides off his glasses and rubs at his eyes with a sigh, like the story took a lot out of him, too. There’s something nostalgic about seeing him in his glasses; he only ever wears contacts to school anymore. “Damn…”
    “N-no kidding.”
    “Man, look… Whatever happened, we’ll work it out, okay? You know Dad and I will have your back.”
    Brett’s dad is a defense attorney, but I don’t want things to go that far where his services are needed. The idea of getting up in front of a courtroom… For that matter, the idea of poor Callie having to get up there and explain what happened to her…I can’t imagine it. I don’t know her well, but what little I do know made me think of her as a pretty, nice, smart girl.
    I lean forward, elbows on my knees, head in my hands. I hurt all over.
    “I’m sure the cops will be questioning everyone,” Brett says gently. “I won’t tell them anything if they come here.”
    I stop breathing for a moment. “There’s nothing to tell.”
    “Well, yeah, I know. I just meant—”
    “Meant what?” I raise my head to stare at him. “D-don’t you believe me?”
    Brett holds up his hands. “Dude. Yes. Of course I do.” He laughs. “I don’t think you’d know what to do with a girl.”
    There have been many times during our friendship where I’ve wanted to punch Brett. This is one of those times. He must be able to tell by the scowl on my face because he’s quick to backpedal.
    “Sorry. I don’t really know what to say to all this, but I believe you. Just last year I watched you crying over a dead cat on the side of the road. You wouldn’t hurt a fly, Vic, and anyone with any brains is going to tell the cops that.”
    I relax. If there’s anyone I want to believe me, it’s my best friend. Brett may have changed a lot over the years, but in times where I’ve needed him— really needed him—he’s never let me down. Not once. He was there at the hospital when I had my appendix removed two years ago. He was there on my sixteenth birthday when Mom had to work and I would have otherwise been home alone with the flu. He was there to defend me when kids made fun of my stutter. He was even the one who got me started on word definitions; he noticed I had a knack for memorizing the words I was helping him study, so he bought me a dictionary and ever since I periodically teach myself a random new word.
    Even now, when he’s got plenty of friends and acquaintances and doesn’t need me around, he’s kept me by his side. I’m still the guy he sits with at lunch and calls with news and questions before anyone else.
    Brett pats my back. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? Stay for a few nights, if you need to. At least until your mom chills out. Maybe my mom can talk to her.”
    “I d-don’t think that’ll help.” I sigh heavily. Mom thinks Mrs. Mason is a lazy good-for-nothing (her words, not mine) because she’s a stay-at-home mother, and she