Read Online After Ever After (9780545292788) by Jordan Sonnenblick - Free Book Online Page B

“Maybe.”
    Tad punched me, and we got to work.

Over the next few weeks, Lindsey and I spent every spare moment talking. Or texting. Or IM’ing. Basically, we did everything but connect our houses with two cans and a string. I found out so much amazing stuff about her that I don’t even know where to begin. I guess a list makes as much sense as anything else, so here goes.
    AMAZING STUFF ABOUT LINDSEY
Moved from California because of her dad’s job. He’s a digital effects designer, and Lindsey knows how to make movies on a computer. Her name was even in the credits of a movie once.
Her supposed BFF from California started out e-mailing her every day, but now they’re running out of things to talk about, and the messages have slowed down to maybe one or two a week. (Who could run out of things to talk aboutwith Lindsey? I told L. that her “friend” must be an idiot.)
Misses Cali oranges the most; insists that Florida ones aren’t as sweet. Promised to let me do a taste test someday.
Loves baseball, is a huge Angels fan. When I told her I love the Yankees, she went into a whole speech about their lame payroll-to-wins ratio. Really knows the sport. Favorite color: red. Looks hot in Angels jersey, but I will never admit it.
Has one older brother named David, who’s away at college. Actually likes having both parents to herself.
Says I’m different from other guys because when I met her, I didn’t check out her body. Or as she put it, “You actually looked at my face. I love that.” I changed the subject before my truth-telling compulsion could burst her bubble.
Knows how to surf and ski. Has never shoveled snow.
Thinks Tad is “sweet, deep down inside.” I was like, “Dude, I think you’d have to be doing some serious exploratory drilling before you found Tad’s sweet spot.” But I am glad she likes him OK.
    Speaking of Tad, he was doing a great job of helping me with my math, plus I was up to three sets of curls with ten-pound weights by Thanksgiving. AND I got an eighty-six on my first report card in math. I know that probably doesn’t sound so high to you, but for me it was a total world record. My father practically wet himself.
    In other news, Tad walked across the entire exercise room the day before Thanksgiving. He could barely breathe when he sat down on the weight bench afterward, but he was smiling from ear to ear as he gasped, “Twenty-two steps!” Again, not such a Guinness moment for most people, but in Tad-steps, that’s like a mile and a half.
    So everything was going great, which is why I should have known we were in trouble. But I let my guard down, and BOOM!
    Before I tell you what happened, I have to tell you something about me. A couple of years ago, we got a phone call. In the middle of mowing his lawn, our Grampa Pete had slumped over the mower and died of a heart attack. Steven went into hysterics. I mean serious hysterics — like, he couldn’t even breathe. I think I probably cried some — I really loved Grampa Pete — but I didn’t lose my mind like Steven did.
    When Steven got calmed down, he looked at me and said, “What? Aren’t you even upset?”
    I was like, “Of course I’m upset. I’m just not surprised .” That’s yet another thing about cancer. See, most kids who haven’t had it think that their normal, everyday lives are safe, that their parents’ jobs are secure, their grandparents won’t die without a warning, the stock market won’t crash. Their mom and dad won’t get divorced. Their family pets won’t run out in the street and go SPLAT. Most kids, even though they don’t realize it, believe they live in a plastic bubble.
    But most of my earliest memories are of spinal taps, throwing up for two hours straight on my birthday, watching my own hair fall out while my friends were worried about learning how to write