Read Online Eleven Things I Promised by Catherine Clark - Free Book Online Page B

for a hundred reasons, but maybe mostly because we understand and support each other.”
Something you’ve never tried to do,
I almost added.
    Before we left for the afternoon’s ride, I found Max making some adjustments to his bike. “Hey, uh, Max. You know that guy Scully you mentioned? Do you know what he looks like?” I asked.
    Max looked up at me and then stood. “All right, all right. Now things are getting interesting.”
    â€œNo, it’s not, um, like that,” I said.
    â€œSure it isn’t.” He smiled.
    â€œStella wanted me to say hi for her. Since you mentioned him, I thought maybe you could point him out to me?”
    â€œSure, come on,” Max said. “I saw him grabbing some energy bars a minute ago when I was over there. His first name’s Earl or Stanley or something. That’s why he goes by Scully,” he explained.
    I followed Max over to the table labeled Provisions, where various sponsors had donated snacks to help us. I would not be taking any protein cubes. I was stuffed from lunch, besides.
    A tall, broad-shouldered guy who looked more like a football player than a cyclist was standing in a group of people wearing matching Salisbury High jerseys. Max wasn’t shy. He barged right in and pulled Scully aside.
    â€œScully, this is Frances. She’s good friends with Stella. Who for some reason told her to look you up . . .”
    â€œYour reputation precedes you, is what he’s trying to say,” I told him.
    â€œStella?” he asked.
    â€œDark-brown hair, about five-ten, long legs, wears black a lot, and rides a super-expensive silver bike—some Italian brand I can never remember.”
    â€œStella, the speed demon. Hey, where is she? She around?” Scully asked.
    â€œShe couldn’t come. She got into an accident, broke her leg,” I explained.
    â€œNo shit. That sucks. Whoa.” Scully rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, so, tell her I said hi. So you’re riding for Sparrowsdale?”
    I nodded and turned to Max for help, but of course he was chatting with another girl. “I was wondering if . . . youknow. . . there’s any way you might know of somebody who might . . . possibly . . . have something to drink?”
    He grinned. “I’ll be hosting a little event tonight. Drop by around eight.”

CHAPTER 5
    It was late afternoon when I finally arrived in Bath, crossing the huge bridge over the Kennebec River.
    Funny. If there was one thing I really needed, it was a bath.
    There were no words for how my muscles felt as Cameron and I drifted across the finish line. What muscles, actually? Maybe that was the problem. The small amount I’d built up over the past few weeks had been pummeled to smithereens.
    I’d always wondered about the word “smithereens.” Now I knew the right use for it.
    As I finished setting my bike in our group’s section of the big open field on Monday—we were staying at a campgroundthat night—I nearly staggered after Cameron, following him to the truck where we could fetch our gear. I needed a shower. I needed new clothes.
    Cameron had kept pace with me the whole afternoon. He’d cheered me on. He’d laughed when I complained. He’d pointed out all the scenery, quite the tour guide, while I ground out the miles. Yes, Maine was pretty. Yes, the ocean view, when we saw it, was breathtaking. No, I didn’t ever want to see any of it again if it reminded me of how I felt right now. I’d move to the opposite coast, or somewhere way, way inland, like Ohio or something.
    Then again, maybe not. Whenever we turned inland everything got a little more hilly.
    But having him beside me had made a big difference. I’m not sure I would have finished if he hadn’t helped me. I was still at the back of the pack, but it didn’t matter that much. Until now, when I realized that even walking was painful. It was like my