The Cipher Read Online Free PDF

kind of thing.”
    Gone, just like that. Destroy the letter—who cares about Smiles? His head spun as he focused on a drop of water sliding down one of the water bottles. His mom’s wild laugh echoed in his mind; his chest seized with a physical ache.
    â€œWhat about a package? There was a package with the letter . . . or, well, the letter was going to tell me about a package. A notebook, actually.” Even as the mixed-up words came out of Smiles’s mouth, he knew they sounded strange.
    Mr. Hunt listened, his expression blank. “I don’t know anything about packages or notebooks. I’m sorry.”
    So that was it then. Smiles fell back into his chair.
    â€œYou’re upset about this,” Mr. Hunt said carefully.
    â€œYeah, I am.” His voice came out cold. Mr. Hunt wasn’t to blame, but Smiles couldn’t help it.
    â€œYou feel cheated; I can understand that.” Mr. Hunt cracked open a bottle of water, measuring his words. “Your mom could be impulsive, Smiles, I think you know that. And let me tell you something else: Your dad has the best judgment of any single person I know. You have to trust him on this one—trust that you didn’t want to read whatever was in that letter.”
    Mr. Hunt put his hands together, finished with his speech. The office rang with silence and suddenly Smiles had risen to his feet.
    â€œGood-bye, Mr. Hunt.” The words dribbled from his mouth, and then his legs were carrying him out of the office so he could get out of there and sit in the Infiniti and process this on his own.
    â€œSmiles, wait.”
    He was almost to the door. When he turned around, Mr. Hunt was holding an envelope.
    â€œDon’t you want your check?”

11
    â€œMY LIFE IS
bizarre. Call me
.”
    Smiles needed a good vent, and he was pretty sure Mel had a free period in the afternoon. He shot her the text as he flew over the Longfellow Bridge on his way back from Mr. Hunt’s office, completely forgetting that it was Thursday and Ben would be waiting for a ride back from MIT. Smiles picked him up every week—or almost every week. To be perfectly honest, it wasn’t the first time it had slipped his mind.
    Luckily he saw him from the Infiniti: the tiny frame, the semi-hunched back, the determined little steps down Massachusetts Avenue. Smiles had to laugh. His next-door neighbor was a bizarre dude, no doubt, but it was a relief to see him. Much better to hang out with Ben for a few hours than to sit around alone, stewing about the letter.
    Smiles couldn’t resist. He floored it, angled to the curb, and jammed on the brakes. The screech sent Ben about twenty feet in the air. On the way down, his army backpack disengaged from his shoulder and landed in a spray of pens. He really made it too easy. Smiles tried not to overdo it, but in fairness, Ben was like a walking solicitation for practical jokes. He was wearing a typical outfit today: tattered blue jeans and a yellow dress shirt that fit him like a tent, his freakishly thin body imperceptible beneath it. He looked out at the world through timid brown eyes that were the stuff of bullies’ dreams.
    Smiles tapped the horn as Ben gathered up his backpack. He jerked upright, his shirt billowing around him, pirate-style.
    Smiles rolled down the window. “Hey, bud!”
    Ben cracked the door and sat down heavily in the car. It took all of his arm strength to heft the backpack onto his lap. It looked like there were bricks in the thing. “So, like, that never gets old to you?”
    It may not have been the first time Smiles had ambushed him on the sidewalk.
    â€œNot if your vertical leap keeps improving like that.”
    â€œWell, thanks for the ride, anyway,” Ben said. “Thought you might blow me off today.”
    â€œYou kidding? Not a chance.”
    Smiles turned off Mass Ave and cut through a rat maze of back streets to the Pemberton, which was