The Bermudez Triangle Read Online Free PDF

the Jell-O shots. “It sounds like someone’s screaming bad poetry over a lawn mower.”
    “Then why do you watch them play?”
    “Sometimes you have to look the other way when it comes to your friends,” Avery said with a shrug. “Even if it makes your ears bleed.”
    “You should play with them,” Mel said. “They’d be great then.”
    “I would kill them.”
    “Yeah, but you’re so good.” Avery had natural talent—perfect pitch and an ability to play almost anything she heard. Years of piano lessons had only sharpened her ability.
    Avery shrugged away Mel’s comment. She didn’t like talking about her musical skills, as if admitting her talent would cheapen it or make it go away.
    As the crowd shifted past them, Avery and Mel were pressed flat against the outer wall of the basement.
    “This is going to be fun,” Avery said, trying to get her arm free enough to get her drink to her lips. “I don’t even know who half of these people are.”
    “Hey,” Mel said. “Can I ask you something?”
    “Sure.”
    “This afternoon, would you have done it?”
    “What? The thing in the pantry?”
    Mel was glad Avery hadn’t used the word
kiss.
It would sound way too weird to say out loud.
    “Of course,” Avery said. “Ten bucks? Why not? Guys are
ridiculous
that way.”
    Mel found herself sinking inside a bit at this response.
    “Would that have freaked you out?” Avery asked.
    “No,” Mel said, trying to smile. “It would have been funny.”
    “Right,” Avery said. She suddenly developed an intense curiosity about her Jell-O shot. She stared deeply into the tiny cup, wiggling it a bit.
    “What do I do with this?” Mel asked, holding up her cup.
    “Just toss it back, like this.” Avery tilted back her cup. Mel did the same. The lump of gelatin was slow moving and seemed to take forever to reach her mouth. It burned with alcohol. She held it on her tongue, trying to absorb as much of the taste as possible.
    “You never know,” Avery said, looking over the crowd. “We could probably get more takers here. More cash, too.”
    Mel gulped down the Jell-O. It tickled as it slithered down her throat. She balled the tiny paper cup in her hand.
    “You always have takers, though,” Avery added.
    “What?”
    “That guy Parker is going to trail you all summer. I can tell.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “You’re really not interested?” Avery asked. “Did you see the puppy dog look? What’s not to like?”
    “I don’t know. I just don’t.”
    Avery was looking at her curiously now, trying to figure out what that meant, because Avery always tried to figure out what everything
meant.
    Avery did another Jell-O shot and said, “Is it because he looks like Strange Mike?”
    Strange Mike was a guy from their sophomore-year biology class who used to stick his fingernail in the electric socket of his lab station and watch his arm shake.
    “No, he doesn’t.”
    “So what is it? Why don’t you like him?”
    “I want to do another one of these,” Mel said, holding up the crumpled remnants of her cup.
    “Seriously?”
    “Yeah,” Mel said. “We’re here. We might as well drink”
    “See? I told Nina I’d take good care of you,” Avery said, obviously pleased.
    While Avery made another trip over to the bar, Mel sat down on the coiled hose that was attached to the wall. Avery’s questions made her panic. It would have been nice, after all, if she could have explained why she never went out with guys more than once or why they never made much of an impression on her.
    She knew the reason, though she’d never put words to it. It floated up in the back of her consciousness now, buoyed by Jell-O and vodka and the last of the warm evening sun. She found her attention completely focused on the small of Avery’s back, just the little strip between the deep maroon of Ave’s old T-shirt and the low sling of her jeans. The answer seemed to be written there, on that perfect piece of skin.
    Avery had a