Read Online Crush by Stefan Petrucha - Free Book Online

take a walk, to get out of the house. His mother’s teary voice bled into his room. But outside wasn’t safe. Not these days.
    Mr. Weaver was murdered and hung over a tree branch.
    Toby was murdered…
    You don’t know that. He could have killed himself, put his perfect life behind him.
    â€¦and dropped in a lake.
    It could have been an accident .
    But it wasn’t an accident, and Jonathan knew it. Tomorrow, maybe the next day, the news would report that Toby had been murdered and discarded in the lake. No accident. No suicide. He knew it.
    And he was afraid. Who would be next?
    From The Book of Adrian, Wed. Oct. 12:
    Look at me. Look at me, the pretty ones shout. Like birds ruffling their colorful feathers to draw attention, those blessed with fine bone and skin parade about as if they controlled the genetic material randomly bestowed upon them. They deride those not so blessed. Express false pity. All the while absorbing adoration like a drug.
    And they need that fix. They long to be wanted. Though unless they approve, they ignore completely the source of this regard, wholly uncaring of the damage total indifference does.
    Isn’t that right, Emma?

7
    Thursday morning, Jonathan stood at his locker. It had already been two days since Toby’s body was found. Jonathan stared inside at the stack of books and notepads absently, wondering what it was he needed. He felt lost this morning. Distracted. Entering the school was like entering a funeral home, the faces of Toby’s mourners surrounding him. Everyone looked so sad. He hadn’t attended the candlelight vigil for the boy last night. The service was held at the city park on the far side of the lake, and he had no way to get there. Even if he had managed a ride, he didn’t see how he could attend the bully’s vigil without feeling like a total hypocrite.
    Instead he’d stayed home and studied for tests in geometry and English lit, both of which were being given tomorrow. He’d talked to David on the phone for a while and gone online briefly to look up some information on Shakespeare, but mostly he’d just read through his notes and checked the textbook. Studying hadn’t been easy. Concentrating on anything was tough these days.
    Mr. Weaver. Toby .
    Damn .
    â€œHey, Jonathan.”
    The voice broke his reverie, and he turned away from the contents of his locker and faced the first pleasant surprise he’d had in a long time. Emma O’Neil stood next to him.
    â€œH–hey, Emma,” he said. With her face so close to his, Jonathan could hardly breathe. She put his mind in shock, made his pulse double.
    â€œLook, I know this is lame,” she said, “and I really hate to ask, but you know that test we’re having tomorrow?”
    â€œSure,” he said.
    â€œI can’t make any sense of my notes,” Emma said. Then she laughed and lowered her head, pointing the nest of spiky hair at him. “Okay, thetruth is, I didn’t take any notes.”
    Jonathan laughed too loudly and then bit the inside of his cheek to staunch the unflattering tide of chuckles. “It happens,” he said.
    â€œWell, I’m not usually such a flake, but after what happened to Mr. Weaver…jeez, and then Toby…I just couldn’t get my head on straight, so I know like nothing about Macbeth . I mean, I’m totally good through Othello , right? But if I could snag your notes for the last couple of classes, I’d totally owe you one.”
    â€œSure,” Jonathan said, already ducking his head back into the locker to find the right notebook. “My notes should be good.”
    â€œThey’d have to be better than mine,” Emma said.
    â€œI just don’t answer questions in class,” he explained. “I mean I know the material.”
    â€œI know you do,” Emma said. “That’s why I asked. Look, I have to bail, but could you email them to me or something? I