Romancing the Dark in the City of Light Read Online Free PDF Page A

perseverance.
    “Not really. Just wanted to be a normal kid. Next goal, make the soccer team.”
    “How’s that going?” she asks carefully.
    “Not so well.” But he smiles slyly. Or maybe all his smiles look sly. “What about you, Summer?”
    She pauses and touches her throat. “Last year I went to a boarding school where my nickname was ‘Back.’” She owes him something for all that he disclosed about himself. “Short for ‘Razorback.’”
    One scarred eyebrow lifts higher than the other. “A wild hog?”
    “It’s the mascot for the University of Arkansas. Where I was born. The state.”
    He nods and bites his garlic bread. “Mom’s from Missouri.”
    “No kidding. The Show Me State. But there are a couple of reasons.” She flips up her hair and stretches the collar of her T-shirt down in back to show him her scar. It’s small and insignificant compared to his, a ragged pomegranate-colored patch at the base of her neck.
    He leans forward to study it. “Nice.”
    She laughs. “I could show you the one on my butt from the skin graft.”
    He guffaws. “ Would liven things up in here. How did you get it?”
    “I pulled a pan of boiling spaghetti sauce on top of me.” She can’t believe they showed each other their scars. And that they’re laughing at them.
    “On your back?”
    “Yeah, I ducked or something. I was five.” She doesn’t mention that her dad was supposed to be giving her dinner but had passed out drunk.
    “That sucks.” He pauses. “Said there were other reasons? For the nickname.”
    “They also called me Razorback because I was, um, fat.”
    He looks surprised. “You’re not now.”
    She studies the fork on her plate. “And kind of an asshole.”
    He presses his lips to keep from smiling. “Not you,” he says, his eyes crinkling with the effort.
    “It’s okay. You can laugh.”
    He does. She does, too.

EIGHT
    It’s almost time for classes. Summer and Moony stroll outside from the cafeteria to the upper school. Even though the wind is icy, the sun breaks through the clouds and floods the grassy suburban sports fields with golden light.
    When she noticed Moony before, he was always walking by himself and now she understands why. He’s slow and it’s unnatural to keep pace beside him. She doesn’t mind.
    “So your mom teaches third grade here, huh?”
    “Yep. Your parents?”
    “I’m staying with my mom,” she says. “She lives here most of the year.”
    “Dad?”
    “He died when I was twelve.” She looks away so he won’t ask more.
    Moony turns toward her. “Sorry.”
    “What about your dad?” she asks.
    “Divorced post accident.”
    “That sucks.”
    “Reembraced Islam, lives in Kuwait with new wife and kid.”
    She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “But he can marry a second wife and still be married to your mom, right?”
    “Over Mom’s dead body.”
    “Ha!”
    They enter the long upper school building and stop at Moony’s white locker. He twirls his padlock with his good left hand. A pale, wiry guy jogging by calls, “Hey, Moony. Three thirty, right?”
    “Bro. Yeah.”
    Two girls strolling the other direction giggle. “Hi, Moony,” they sing.
    “Anna. Rose. S’up?”
    “What do you have now?” asks Summer, bouncing on her toes, trying to win back his attention. He pays it fully and she already misses it.
    He turns back to her. “Theory of Knowledge. You?”
    “French Two. I’m flunking it. She goes so flipping fast.”
    “I tutor French. Satisfaction guaranteed.” He winks.
    He’s flirting with her! “That’s good news,” she says, pulling out her cell phone. “Number?”
    He recites it.
    “Last name?”
    “Al Shukr.”
    A petite girl with big brown eyes and highlighted hair squeezes in next to Moony. “ Salut, ” she says as she stands on her tiptoes to kiss him on both cheeks. Her hips are impossibly thin and her haute couture blouse could be hocked for a pair of concert tickets. “Hi, I’m Jackie,” she