Wherever Nina Lies Read Online Free PDF Page A

talked about and all I thought about. And there were at least a dozen times when I was sure I was this close to finding her. Like the time I saw a girl on the street with hair the exact blue color Nina’s had been when she left and spent an hour following this girl so I could ask her questions, as though maybe she and Nina were part of some Girls With Blue Hair club and by locating one member I’d be led to the rest. (The girl turned out to be visiting from Russia and didn’t speak a word of English.) Or the time I found a crumpled-up ad for an art supply store in the pocket of an old pair of Nina’s jeans and spent three hours each way on the bus going to this store, only to find that they’d gone out of business. For each of these occasions and the dozens like it, Amanda was always right there with me, as supportive as a best friend could be. And each time when the “clues” led nowhere, as they inevitably did, and I was newly crushed as though Ninahad just vanished all over again, Amanda was right there helping put me back together. As time went on, the possibility that one of these mazes might actually lead to my sister seemed smaller and smaller. And I guess eventually Amanda decided that helping me wasn’t actually helping me at all anymore.
    So I know what she’s trying to say, but I’m also not going to listen.
    I turn back to the bulletin board. I feel my face spreading into a smile.
    “Ellie…”
    I reach my hand out and take the flier off the wall. I’m not sinking anymore. I’m floating up, up, up, because here it is. Bright red paper covered in bold black handwriting. This is so obviously his. And I know there can be only one explanation for this—this is fate. So whatever happens next, it’s going to work out, and it’s going to be perfect. I’ve waited far too long for it not to be.
    YOU HAVE HEREBY BEEN CORDIALLY INVITED TO A HOUSEWRECKING PARTY AT THE MOTHERSHIP (349 Belmont Ave) Come help us tear this sucker down.
    For 15 years we’ve been home to a rotating band of musicians, artists, transients, travelers, angels, devils, do-gooders, and ne’er-do-wells.
    But we’ve lost our lease , an era is ending, the time has come to say goodbye.
    Bring your hammers, your crowbars, your spray paint, and your cameras, because after tonight your pictures and your memories will be all that’s left.
    Friday, June 27th, from dusk til dust

Six
    W e can hear the party long before we see it. The boom boom boom of the music, the hum of hundreds of human voices blended together, it sounds like all parties do from far away, except for the occasional loud, crashing noise, followed by even louder cheers.
    We’re near the top of a giant hill, Amanda and I. It’s lined on either side by a thick forest, trees curling over the road, threatening to topple over on the dozens of parked cars. This part of town is only ten miles from Amanda’s house, but it feels like an entirely different world out here. The houses are huge and far apart, and they all look ancient, but perfectly preserved like this place exists outside of regular time. Behind us it’s pitch-black, in front of us tiny points of light blink on and off like fireflies, only they’re cell phone screens and the cherries of lit cigarettes.
    “Are you sure that this is a good idea?” Amanda asks.
    “There’ll be lots of guys at the party I bet!” I say. I sound so pathetically earnest. I feel a stab of self-pity just hearing myself. And then I swallow that pity back down mythroat, because stabs of self-pity are stupid. And incredibly unproductive.
    “Just please, please, please, please,” she says. “Please don’t get your hopes up, okay?”
    I look away. And then I look back and I give her this small half smile and she shakes her head slightly because we both know it’s already far too late.
    To our left, two girls get out of a dented green car. One of them has short white hair, and is taking sips from a Poland Spring bottle filled with purple