Read Online Blues for Zoey by Robert Paul Weston - Free Book Online Page A

the living room floor. “If not, you owe me a hundred bucks.”
    â€œNo way,” said Topher. “I’m not paying.”
    â€œA bet’s a bet,” said Eyebrow Ring.
    Topher ignored him. He glared at Zoey. “Nobody said you could come in here. I don’t even know who you are.”
    â€œYou don’t know who half these people are,” said Becky. “Neither do I.”
    â€œShut up, Becks, I wasn’t talking to you.” His eyes were still on Zoey. “Who invited you?”
    She shrugged. “Some guys I met.”
    â€œ Who? ”
    â€œI don’t know their names . They just invited me.”
    â€œYou don’t know who you came with?” Topher’s eyes scanned up and down Zoey’s body. “What’s your name?”
    â€œZoey.”
    â€œZoey what?”
    She hesitated. “I don’t have to tell you that.”
    â€œIt’s my fucking house. How do I know you’re not, like, a crazy person ?”
    â€œZamani,” she said at last. “My name is Zoey Zamani.”
    â€œZoey Zamani? Dumb name. Oh, and you owe my friend with the ring in his face a hundred bucks.”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œIt’s your fault I lost the bet, so you gotta pay.”
    â€œNo way.”
    â€œI don’t care, as long as I get my hundred bucks,” said the kid with the eyebrow ring.
    â€œYou will,” said Toph, “just as soon as—”
    He stopped because he had been interrupted— by his own ass . Topher far ted so long and hard it sounded like he was shitting a train. Everybody screamed. They plugged their noses and ran.
    In a second, everyone was out in the hall and running for the kitchen. Zoey and I were pulled along with the crow d, and, looking back through the door, I saw Topher plop down on the bed as if all his energy had blown out, along with the monumental ass-monkey.
    â€œFuck,” I heard him mutter. “I was saving that .”
    The last guy out of the room slammed the door and followed everyone else towa rd the kitchen. Someone pulled on my elbow. It was Zoe y. Her fingers slid down my arm, and suddenly we were all alone, hand in hand.
    â€œC’mon,” she whispered, tugging me deeper down the forbidden hall. “You gotta see this.”

23
    â€œClaire de lune,” Pa rt 1
    She pulled me along to the end of the hallway, to the Salon. It was a massi ve room with hardwood floors and a ceiling punctured with skylights. Through them, we could see the moon and the stars above us. I n one corner was a huge, brilliantly white grand piano.
    â€œCool, huh?”
    â€œYou’ve already been in here?” I asked her.
    She winked at me. “I like breaking the rules.”
    â€œI t’s so shiny,” I said, staring at the piano. Even though my mother used to play one of these for a living, we only ever had a second-hand upright at home, back when Dad was alive.
    Zoey circled around it. “Do you play?”
    I admitted I used to, when I was younger. I told her my mom had once given me lessons but I was never ve ry good.
    â€œToo bad it’s white,” she said. “I’m a firm believer all pianos should be black.”
    â€œIt looks good in the dark,” I suggested. “Like a ghost.”
    Zoey didn’t respond. She ran her fingers over the rim. Then, silently, she raised the fallboard. “What should I play?”
    â€œNothing,” I said. “Toph’s mad enough already.”
    â€œI told you, I don’t like rules.”
    She slipped her legs over the stool.
    â€œWait, don’t.”
    She ignored me and looked up, her huge eyes catching the blue light of the moon. “I know just the thing.”
    I was about to run over and stop her, but I froze. Zoey had started playing “Claire de lune.”
    When I was a kid, whenever Mom tucked me into bed she always went downstairs afterward and played this song. She called