Read Online Crescendo by Becca Fitzpatrick - Free Book Online Page A

he reached sideways and shook her shoulder in a way that was just a little too rough to be friendly— “so kindly pointed out, if I go to college, it won’t be for grades.”
    Not wanting to give anyone at the table a chance to pull us further away from the topic of Scott’s former troubles, I said, “Oh, come on, Scott. You’re killing me. What’s so bad about your past? It can’t be so horrible that you’re not willing to tell old friends.”
    “Nora—,” my mom started.
    “Get a few DUIs? Steal a car? Joyride?”
    Under the table, I felt my mom’s foot come to rest on top of mine. She directed a sharp look at me that said,
What’s gotten into you?
    Scott’s chair scraped back against the floor, and he got to his feet. “Bathroom?” he asked my mom. He stretched his collar. “Indigestion.”
    “At the top of the stairs.” Her voice was apologetic. She was actually apologizing for my behavior, when she was the one who’d set the whole ridiculous evening up. Anyone with a shred of perceptiveness could see that the point of this dinner wasn’t to share ameal with old family friends. Vee was right—this was a meet cute. Well, I had news for my mom. Scott and me? Not happening.
    After Scott excused himself, Mrs. Parnell smiled wide, as if to erase the past five minutes and start fresh. “So tell me,” she said a little too brightly, “does Nora have a boyfriend?”
    “No,” I said at the same time Mom said, “Sort of.”
    “That’s confusing,” Mrs. Parnell said, chewing a forkful of lasagna and looking between Mom and me.
    “His name is Patch,” Mom said.
    “Odd name,” mused Mrs. Parnell. “What were his parents thinking?”
    “It’s a nickname,” Mom explained. “Patch gets in a lot of fights. He’s always needing to be
patched
up.”
    Suddenly I regretted ever explaining to her that Patch was his nickname.
    Mrs. Parnell shook her head. “I think it’s a gang name. All the gangs use nicknames. Slasher, Slayer, Maimer, Mauler, Reaper. Patch.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Patch is not in a gang.”
    “That’s what you think,” Mrs. Parnell said. “Gangs are for inner-city criminals, right? They’re roaches that only come out at night.” She grew silent, and I thought I saw her eyes flick to Scott’s empty chair. “Times are changing. A couple weeks ago I watched a
Law & Order
about a new breed of wealthy suburban gangs. They called them secret societies, or blood societies, or some such nonsense,but it all boils down to the same thing. I thought it was your typical sensationalized Hollywood garbage, but Scott’s dad said he’s seeing more of this stuff all the time. He would know—him being a cop and all.”
    “Your husband is a cop?” I asked.
    “Ex-husband, rot his soul.”
    That’s enough.
Scott’s voice drifted out of the shadowy hall, and I jumped. I was on the verge of wondering if he’d gone to the bathroom at all, or if he’d stood just outside the dining room, eavesdropping, when it dawned on me that I didn’t think he’d spoken out loud. In fact—
    I was pretty sure he’d spoken to my … thoughts. No. Not my thoughts. His mother’s. And somehow I’d overheard.
    Mrs. Parnell flipped her palms up. “All I said was rot his soul— I’m not taking that back, it’s exactly how I feel.”
    “I said stop talking.” Scott’s voice was quiet, eerie.
    My mom spun around, as if just now noticing that Scott had entered the room. I blinked in dazed disbelief. I couldn’t really have overheard him speaking to his mom’s thoughts. I mean, Scott was human … wasn’t he?
    “Is that how you talk to your own mother?” Mrs. Parnell said, shaking her finger at him. But I could tell it was more for our benefit than for any purpose of putting Scott in his place.
    His cold stare stayed fixed on her a moment longer, then he retreated to the front door and yanked it shut at his back.
    Mrs. Parnell wiped her mouth, pink lipstick staining her napkin. “The nasty side of