The Vow Read Online Free PDF Page A

or something. Or maybe I’ll just eat straight sugar. Yeah, I’ll do that.”
    “Good-bye, Mo.”
    “A raisin. We probably have raisins. I’m sure nature’s candy will hit the spot.”
    “Good-bye.”
    “Bye.”
    I drive the rest of the way home listening-but-not-listening to the radio. Out my window, sunlight rolls over the bluegrass hills of horse farms. It’s distractingly pretty, with velvet green slopes and regal white fences. Before I’d started the mural, maybe I’d have pulled over and taken a few pictures to work from later.
    But it’s different now. I’ve got winding ocean currents waiting at home and fresh paint begging to be used. I’ve never even dipped a toe in the real ocean, but I can almost sense waves pulsing when I stand in the center of my room.
    That makes me sound crazy.
    There’s no reason I shouldn’t want to tell Mo about Reed. Mo’s been my best friend before, during, and after both of my boyfriends (if we’re counting that three weeks of holding Jordan Mailer’s sweaty hand in ninth grade) and all the insignificant crushes in between. Sure, he mocks—he’s Mo—but I’ve never had a problem shrugging it off before. I shouldn’t be embarrassed just to admit that I think someone is interesting.
    Interesting. Another good word for Reed.
    He makes me want to know things. I want to know what his favorite song is, and if he’s ever been in a fight, and what kind of movies he likes, and why he isn’t friendly with the college girls at Mr. Twister. I want to know if he’s ever had his heart broken.
    He has no idea that every time he walks by, my spine tingles and my stomach drops, or that I’m trying not to stare at his hands and wondering if his neck smells like what I’m imagining it might. Interesting is indefinable, but it’s what keeps me imagining what it would feel like if he touched my cheek. Or the insides of my arms, the ticklish side. Or my back.
    I should stop myself. I have jingling bracelets that are supposed to remind me why. Maybe I’m ignoring them because I really could feel him looking at me, and it felt kind of sweet.
    By the time I pull into the driveway, I’m certain. I’m never letting Mo at Reed. He’s a genius at finding faults, and if he rips Reed apart, that sweet feeling might turn sour. It didn’t matter so much with the other guys—I already knew they were all cocky idiots—but Reed just might be different.
    I’m not going to feel guilty about it either. Just because Mo’s my best friend doesn’t mean he has to know all my secrets.

Chapter 4
    Mo
    A nnie knows all my secrets. Every single one of them. I can’t trust Bryce with my locker combination, and whatever I tell Sarina in confidence has at least a 20 percent chance of being accidentally blabbed to Dad, but Annie’s different. Since the fifth grade I’ve been telling her things she could’ve easily fed to the bloodthirsty masses in a weak moment, but she’s never leaked. Not once. She’s tighter than a submarine.
    I’d say the first secret was a mistake, but that’s too mild. It was a calamity, a natural disaster so horrific I’m still amazed it didn’t kill me.
    We’d only just moved to the States, and I was certain life could not possibly suck more. Chemically speaking, if my life was a solvent, and misery the solute, saturation point had been reached. I missed Jordan so bad my whole body ached, and unlike Sarina, who kept asking when we were going home to Teta and Jido’s (Grandma and Grandpa’s), I was old enough to really get it. We weren’t going back.
    There were the obvious things to miss: the pack of boy cousins I roamed our neighborhood with and our cutthroat war games; fat Teta with her paper-soft skin and her sugared dates that left my fingers and tongue sticky; the boys next door, Ali and Barzy, and Barzy’s deaf dog, Hoda, that was so old his hair was falling out. I don’t even know why I missed that ugly dog, but I did.
    And the food. The food . I was