Read Online After Hello by Lisa Mangum - Free Book Online Page A

okay?” I didn’t really understand what was happening.
    It wasn’t until she was at the door, her suitcase in hand, that I finally understood.
    It wasn’t until she said good-bye that I started to cry.
    I closed my hand in a fist around the sugar packet. No. Not today.
    “I want to see the Giants play,” I said, blurting out the first thing I could think of. My chin jutted out in a challenge.
    Sam blinked. “The Giants?”
    “They’re famous, right? And they play in New York. We’re in New York. So let’s go see them play.”
    “It’s not that easy—”
    “Why not? I thought you could get anything you wanted.”
    Sam scratched the underside of his jaw. “I can, it’s just—”
    “What? It’s just—what?” A hard knot of emotion lodged in my throat. I tried to swallow around it. I didn’t want to be so aggressively unlikable. I could hear my dad’s voice in my head: Now, Sara, be nice. I was a nice person—most of the time. I hated that the mere thought of my mom could make me feel like this.
    And Sam had been nothing but nice to me today even when he didn’t have to be. I knew I shouldn’t be taking it out on him, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
    He looked at me with those dark brown eyes, surprisingly serene—and perhaps a little sympathetic—and hooked his thumb beneath the strap of his messenger bag that crossed his chest. “Somehow I don’t think going to a football game is what you really want.”
    “You don’t know that. I could be a big football fan,” I snapped back.
    “That’s true. But if so, then you’d know that the Giants aren’t playing right now. It’s May. Preseason games don’t start until August.” He hesitated, then added, “And, technically the Giants don’t play in New York; their stadium is in New Jersey.”
    “Oh.” I felt as though a trapdoor had opened up beneath my feet. All my hot anger fell through, leaving behind a blush of embarrassment.
    Sam was kind enough not to laugh.
    “But that doesn’t mean we can’t still try to see them play,” he said.
    “How?”
    “I don’t know. But I know how to start.” He stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk and reached for my hand that was still curled around the sugar packet. “Step one: trade this for something better.”
    Opening my hand, I saw that the paper had been crinkled and creased from the force of my fist. “Who’s going to want a slightly sweaty sugar packet?”
    “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t? ” Sam grinned, and I couldn’t help but feel a smile coming on.
    “Gotta keep things moving, right? Stagnation kills.”
    His grin tightened a little on his face. He closed my fingers around the packet again. “You hold on to this. Never know when it’ll be time for a trade.”
    I stashed the sugar packet in my bag next to my camera. Another red double-decker bus rumbled past us, spewing exhaust. Without warning, I remembered seeing my mom’s shoes turn away from me. They had been the same dark-red color as the bus. There had been a small scuff on the left heel. And the sound they had made—a crisp snap, like a twig breaking in two. I shuddered.
    No.
    I took a deep breath and brushed my hair away from my face. I had promised myself I wasn’t going to let my mom ruin my day. I closed the door on those memories and forced myself back to the present.
    “You said we were going to a church?” I slipped my sunglasses over my eyes, even though we were partially in the shade. Sam was much too observant for his own good, and I didn’t want to take the risk that he would see something he shouldn’t in my eyes.
    “St. John’s.” Sam pointed. “It’s just up the street.”
    “Then what are we waiting for? We’ve got a job to do.”
    “A job?”
    “For Piper,” I reminded him. “We have to find something amazing that she can hang above her fireplace—or else.”
    “Oh, I know. I’m well aware of the ‘or else.’ It’s just that calling it a job makes it sound so . . .