Tag Along Read Online Free PDF

idea of a joke. Whatever. Beats the hell out of the poser fake punk he listens to. M83 blasts at me through the speakers. I jack up the stereo.
    I love it when Dad lets me drive his truck. It’s a beast, and it totally kicks the shit out of Mom’s Corolla. If I could have any job in the world, I’d be a high-end mechanic. I love working with engines and seeing how everything fits together under the hood to make a vehicle run smooth.
    I made the mistake of mentioning that to Lannie one time. She didn’t like it at all.
    â€œPaul, you don’t have to resort to that kind of thing,” she said.
    â€œWhat kind of thing?”
    â€œYou know, blue-collar stuff. You’re smarter than that. You could be a teacher or something. You just have to focus and work harder.” Lannie wants to be a physiotherapist, and no doubt she’ll do it—she’s definitely smart enough.
    I didn’t bother arguing with her. When Lannie gets an idea in her head about how things should work out, there’s no point discussing any other options. It kind of pissed me off though. My dad’s a carpenter, and he runs his own small contracting business. He’s always wiped out when he gets home from work, but he’s in great shape for an old guy, and every day when he gets home, he cracks a beer and says, “I sure as hell earned this one today.” He loves his job. What’s wrong with that? But I just keep my mouth shut when Lannie talks to me about education, because I know she just wants what’s best for me.
    I turn onto Coronation Boulevard, which is what passes for the main strip in Granite Ridge. A Walmart, a grocery store, a bunch of shops and some chain restaurants. If you want to do anything really fun, you have to go into the city, but most of the time people just end up on the strip unless there’s a party at the Ledge or something.
    I drive by some short dude in a tuxedo walking by himself along the sidewalk. As I pass, I glance in the rearview mirror. Roemi Kapoor. I don’t really know Roemi that well. He’s in all academic classes, with Lannie and Andrea and the rest of the brains. Penner has a serious hate on for him. He says it’s disgusting that we’ve reached a point in history where someone can be openly gay in high school. He knows better than to lay a hand on Roemi, but he definitely throws a lot of fag talk around when we pass him in the hallway.
    I don’t agree with Penner about the gay thing. I don’t think it’s a big deal, but I would never in a million years say that out loud. To be honest, I kind of admire Roemi. When people talk shit to him, he just walks past with his head in the air as if he hasn’t heard a thing. It’s pretty crazy that someone can be that confident when they’ve got that kind of heat on them.
    Other than Roemi, the strip is pretty much dead. Everyone is obviously at the prom or one of the pre-parties.
    On a whim, I pull up to the arcade and go inside. It’s full of junior-high kids. A few of them look at me funny, but I figure what the hell and grab a seat at one of the racing games. I get caught up in it for a while, drop a few bucks.
    I find myself wishing that Jerry and Ahmed were here with me. We spent a lot of time at the arcade as kids. Now we’re a year away from graduating, and I barely talk to them anymore. I could probably stay here all night, playing, but after a few games I force myself to get up out of the little chair and call it a night.
    On my way through the parking lot, I decide to stop at the Snak-Stop and pick up some junk food. I’m pretty sure I can convince my brothers to watch The Bourne Identity with me for the millionth time.
    I grab a few chocolate bars, then head to the chip aisle. I’m trying to decide between sour-cream-and-onion or BlastaCheese nachos when some girl hurries right up next to me out of nowhere, grabs my hand and squeezes it