Playing Tyler Read Online Free PDF Page B

ambulance. Waited as they loaded Mom in there, too. Mom who was glued to Brandon, who couldn’t stop begging everyone around her for help, grabbing their shirts and pulling, even as they tried to shoo her away so they could work on him. I was too young to drive. So I watched the lights and the sirens leave me standing on the driveway, alone.
    Waiting.
    Â 
    Â 
    Ani
    What’s with the avocados here in Connecticut? All of the avocados I’ve seen here look like they’ve been thrown all the way from California. What I wouldn’t give for a fresh avocado with a little bit of lime. Instead, I have to settle for a grilled cheese and scoop of guacamole that looks like it was made with cornstarch and green food dye.
    I grab my tray and sit next to Christy, who’s on her cell. The guy next to her is texting someone so I pull out my ereader. Might as well start on one of those novels for freshman Lit.
    â€œHey, Ani?” Christy puts the face of her phone down on the table next to her untouched salad. “You want to come with us tonight? We’re going to go over to Ted’s tonight to see Bill’s band. They’re like this mix of thrash and dubstep but it could be fun.”
    â€œBill?” the guy next to her asks.
    â€œYeah, he’s in our Bio lab, remember? Long hair. Comes to class on a long board.”
    The guy next to her nods and then continues to text.
    I say, “I’m not sure I could get in.” I passed Ted’s the other day on the way back from the bookstore. It’s pretty clearly a bar. Even if I had an ID that said I was twenty-one, no one would look at me and believe it.
    â€œThat’s crazy, you only have to be like eighteen. C’mon, Ani.” She clasps her hand together and leans over the table. “It’ll be fun.”
    â€œI’m only sixteen, remember?” I look down at my plate so I don’t have to look her in the face. She’s sweet and supposedly really good at academics like English and History, but she seems to forget a lot of things. Sort of important things like buying her own shampoo or that her roommate is only sixteen. I could make a fake ID that says I’m eighteen, but it would take a while.
    â€œOh, honey.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my wrist. “I totally forgot. Well, you should try and sneak in, then.”
    â€œI can’t, can’t really get in trouble,” I say.
    â€œOh my God, you have one of those dads, don’t you?” She shakes her head at the guy sitting next to her, who’s following her every movement like it’s ballet. “One of those you-mess-up-I’m-dragging-you-back-home dads. Shannon has one of those, too. Totally sucks.”
    My throat dries and I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. I just shake my head no and squeeze my eyes shut, ignoring the burn. Ignoring the image of Dad’s eyes and the way they looked through the glass.
    â€œYou have to promise to come out with us soon, though, OK?” she chirps.
    Christy has this way about her, a sweet, wide-eyed sort of charm that helps me to look past the fact that she uses all of my toothpaste and leaves her clothes strewn across the floor. When she’s around it’s like someone placed a TV in the middle of the room at full volume. Her brilliant orange curls and smile demand to be noticed. She’s entertaining and lively and fun, but it’s as if it’s a non-interactive experience. Everything seems so one-sided. I doubt she’d recognize my voice if I called to her across a hall. She invites me out with her and her burgeoning circle of friends almost every single morning, but she forgets by the end of classes and just leaves without waiting. Living with her makes me miss Julie even more.
    â€œYeah, OK,” I say and look back at my book as she calls someone else on the phone.
    I remember what it was like to be a champion. The rush I got as I beat