The Sound of Us Read Online Free PDF Page A

I walk along the tiny sidewalk, passing pancake houses and new towering hotels with neon signs and twenty-story balconies. Dad hated that the old beach houses were getting sold off and torn down to make way for these vacation towers, but I always thought they were pretty at night, and that the view from the rooftops must be spectacular.
    Halfway there, my cell phone vibrates. I dig through my purse. “‘Ello,” I greet happily in a British accent so bad I make myself cringe, “you’ve reached Junie Baltimore, barmaid and best friend to the sweetest, most kick-ass pal in all the—”
    “You forgot gorgeous,” Maggie interrupts. “I felt a disturbance in the force. Although that might just be my lady parts stirring from seeing hunk-a-licious Caspian Gardener washing his car on my way to work.
So
sexy.”
    “Yep.”
    Maggie doesn’t even know about Caspian, so she definitely doesn’t know I gave him the hymen high-five. “Sorry I missed the sight.” I pause at the red light and wait for the walk sign. The store is across the street, beside the Ice Cream Emporium, a family-owned joint. It’s busy tonight, and it’s only six-thirty. Tourists crowd the picnic tables with their white sneakers and fanny packs. At least half of them have on pink SAVE HOLIDAY t-shirts. “Is there something going on this week or something with that Crapidayer shit?”
    “Um, yeah, the memorial. Where’ve you been living, under a rock?” She doesn’t let me answer. “Never mind, you’re out of the loop. There’ll be a memorial on Thursday at St. Michael’s cemetery in Conway—hey, that’s your last name!”
    “Chuck’s last name,” I correct. “I’m still a Baltimore.”
    “
Whatever
—to celebrate Holly’s life and raise awareness of teen suicide and all that jazz. Supposed to be a
super
big deal. MTV’s gonna be there and everything.”
    “Because MTV is such a premiere news source.”
    “Oh shush,” she scolds. “If I could be there, I totes would. Are my people there in droves?”
    “You have no idea.” I stare at the tweens nose-deep in their cell phones, pink peacock feathers in their hair to match their t-shirts. “In fact, a few of your
people
are eating ice cream as we speak—I hate ice cream.”
    “Which is stupid. Ice cream is the frozen nectar of the gods. I think it’s so silly you hate it because some kid body-checked you with your own ice cream.”
    I roll my eyes. “It’s just a bad memory, okay? I just hate ice cream. It’s bad for my figure anyway,” I add jokingly.
    She laughs. “Right, because you’re obviously ginormous.”
    “I am!”
    “Junes, I can smuggle you into Mexico in my cleavage alone.”
    “Oh!
Speaking
of that, guess who forgot her underwear?”
    “Ha-ha! Karma,
bitch
! For not going with me last night!”
    Averting my eyes away, I make a break across the street as soon as a purple hatchback passes, to hell with walk signs. “Oh, shut up.”

Chapter Four
    Dad used to wave his hand in front of automatic doors as they opened, beam at me with that big dopey grin of his and say, “Master Will uses the force, he does!” like a drunk Yoda. I flick my hand in front of the automatic doors to the stop-n-shop—I hope it just looks like a spasm—and try not to grin too widely as they glide open on my command. Darth Vader, eat your heart out. I make my way to the back where a small selection of clothes surrounds an even smaller selection of underwear.
    Crap.
    What’s worse, wearing Roman-Holiday-themed underwear, or granny panties?
    “Cas had his
shirt
off
while
washing his car,” Maggie prattles on. “Ugh, remind me next time I do a car wash for charity, hire him to wash all of them. Oh, those
abs
.”
    Maggie, along with being my clichéd beautiful best friend, is also a guyaholic. She’s pretty enough to never reuse the same guy, so she is perfectly capable of catching any guy she sets her sights on. It’s been Caspian for a while, and to my silent delight, he’s