Rebel's Tag Read Online Free PDF Page B

their thoughts. The interesting part is people haven’t changed much in all that time. Here’s another quote from them—this one suits my visits to the garden:
    I looked into the water. My destiny was drifting past.
    Your Grandpa Max
    I get up and walk back over to the bridge. I look into the water. I see myself with the soft gold of the watch shining in my hand. I don’t know if my destiny is drifting there. I’ve never thought much about destiny. I’m not even sure whatit is. Something to do with the future? Grandpa saw his future drifting past? And he was all alone? I open the watch and turn it so that the photograph is reflected beside my watery image. I feel something on the back of my neck, a soft touch, like a breath. When I turn, no one is there. And I really wish someone was.

chapter nine
    The whole way home on the bus, I stare at Grandpa’s watch. It’s probably worth a lot, maybe enough to buy a car. But it fits in the palm of my hand perfectly, and I know I won’t be selling it. I want to show it to Indi, and tell her how I changed my mind. I figure that by telling her, I might even understand why I changed my mind. Maybe the watch is like that bridge at the garden, only this bridge goes from thepast to now. Grandpa Max is getting to me. And maybe I want to see him too? But what if he’s disappointed in me? He tells his friends about me like I’m someone special, and I’m not. I’m just an average fourteen-year-old kid who isn’t really good at anything.
    The bus drives past the house with the ruby red paint on the roof, and I look the other way. But it’s there. I feel it the way you feel someone’s stare from across a crowded room. It makes me feel way less than average, more like a screw up. I don’t want to be a screw up. Not for Indi, not for my mom, not even for Grandpa Max. And just like that, I know what I have to do. Tonight. By myself.
    It’s strange going out for a roof without Indi. I usually feel like I’m just about to open a birthday present, but not this time. There’s no vibe of magic in the air; there’s just cold darkness. It doesn’t matter. I’m doing this so the magic can happen next time, and the time after that. I know forcertain that unless I get rid of the bloody mess, make it right, Indi and the magic could be gone for good.
    Once again, the house is dark and silent. I don’t bother to check for a dog. I just climb straight up the fence. I make my way across the garage roof and up to the peak without pausing. I pull out a spray can of pale gray paint and start looking for the dark splotches of red. I decided this is the best way to fix it. I thought about scrubbing the roof with some kind of cleaner but chances are that wouldn’t work. I had a hard enough time just washing the paint off my hands. Then I thought about that stuff that dissolves paint, but what if it ate into the shingles and wrecked them?
    The first few spatters are easy enough to spray over, but some of them are farther down the roof. I have to slide along on my butt, bracing myself with my feet to get to them. I don’t want to miss any. The last one is very close to the edge, and I lie sideways, stretching out my armto spray. But as I press the button on the can, I lose my grip, and the can shoots free. It rolls, bounces off the gutter and disappears into darkness. The clatter it makes when it hits the pavement below is unbelievable. It sounds like somebody banging a pot with a metal spoon, the way people do at midnight on New Year’s Eve. I’ve got to get out of here. Fast.
    I scramble across the roof, not even trying to muffle my steps. My heart is pounding so hard, it seems as loud as the clattering can. I sprint across the garage roof and jump onto the fence. My shin slides and scrapes along the top of the fence, but I get a handhold and keep it just long enough to steady myself. Then I drop to the ground