The Last Song Read Online Free PDF Page A

for animals in general, especially
     abandoned ones. Like these little guys. “They’re going to be okay, right? You’re not going to have them put to sleep, are
     you?”
    “They’ll be fine,” the woman answered. “That’s why we set up the table. So people would adopt them. Last year, we found homes
     for over thirty animals, and these four have already been claimed. I’m just waiting for the new owners to pick them up on
     their way out. But there are more at the shelter if you’re interested.”
    “I’m only visiting,” Ronnie answered, just as a roar erupted from the beach. She craned her neck, trying to see. “What’s going
     on? A concert?”
    The woman shook her head. “Beach volleyball. They’ve been playing for hours—some kind of tournament. You should go watch.
     I’ve heard the cheering all day, so the games must be pretty exciting.”
    Ronnie thought about it, figuring, Why not? It couldn’t be any worse than what was happening up here. She threw a couple of
     dollars into the donation jar before heading toward the steps.
    The sun was descending, giving the ocean a sheen like liquid gold. On the beach, a few remaining families were congregated
     on towels near the water, along with a couple of sand castles about to be swept away in the rising tide. Terns darted in and
     out, hunting for crabs.
    It didn’t take long to reach the source of the action. As she inched her way to the edge of the court, she noticed that the
     other girls in the audience seemed fixated on the two players on the right. No surprise there. The two guys—her age? older?—were
     the kind that her friend Kayla routinely described as “eye candy.” Though neither of them was exactly Ronnie’s type, it was
     impossible not to admire their lanky, muscular physiques and the fluid way they moved through the sand.
    Especially the taller one, with dark brown hair and the macramé bracelet on his wrist. Kayla would have definitely zeroed
     in on him—she always went for the tall ones—in the same way the bikini-clad blonde across the court was obviously zeroing
     in on him. Ronnie had noticed the blonde and her friend right away. They were both thin and pretty, with blindingly white
     teeth, and obviously used to being the center of attention and having boys drool all over them. They held themselves apart
     from the crowd and cheered daintily, probably so they wouldn’t mess up their hair. They might as well have been billboards
     proclaiming it was okay to admire them from a distance, but don’t get too close. Ronnie didn’t know them, but she already
     didn’t like them.
    She turned her attention back to the game just as the cute guys scored another point. And then another. And still another.
     She didn’t know what the score was, but they were obviously the better team. And yet, as she watched, she silently began to
     root for the other guys. It had less to do with the fact that she always rooted for the underdog—which she did—and more to
     do with the fact that the winning pair reminded her of the spoiled private school types she sometimes ran into at clubs, the
     Upper East Side boys from Dalton and Buckley who thought they were better than everyone else simply because their dads were
     investment bankers. She’d seen enough of the so-called privileged crowd to recognize a member when she saw one, and she’d
     bet her life that those two were definitely part of the popular crowd around here. Her suspicions were confirmed after the
     next point when the brown-haired guy’s partner winked at the blonde’s tanned, Barbie-doll friend as he got ready to serve.
     In this town, the pretty people clearly all knew one another.
    Why wasn’t she surprised by that?
    The game suddenly seemed less interesting, and she turned to leave just as another serve sailed over the net. She vaguely
     heard someone shouting as the opposing team returned the serve, but before she had taken more than a couple of steps, she
     felt