Read Online Nine's Legacy by Pittacus Lore - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Pittacus Lore
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again if you promise no cars.”
I leap to my feet, punching the air in celebration. After everything I put her through last night, even after the whole thing with the kiss, and she still wants to see me again. That has to mean something, right? With one simple text Maddy has reassured me that the connection I felt between us is real.
Even knowing that it can never be simple and easy between us, that eventually this brief freedom I have will be gone and I’ll be swept back up in my destiny—even knowing all that, I still have to see her. I know I can set things right between us. And maybe I can have just one perfect, normal moment.
I bound across the rooftops as the sun sets, a shadow above the heads of tired commuters. I chart a course across walls and windows and power lines, heading for Maddy’s house.
I’m cautious during my approach. The Mogs were following me last night, so they’re obviously onto me. I need to make sure they’re not still lurking around. They could be anywhere. I prowl the surrounding blocks, sticking to the rooftops, one eye always on my iMog.
There’s no sign of any danger.
From across the street I scope out Maddy’s house. I feel sort of like a stalker. The sight of parents would be almost as bad as the sight of Mogs. Showing up unannounced might not go over too well with Maddy’s folks. I don’t want to have to throw pebbles at her window.
I climb up the building opposite Maddy’s, careful to stay hidden, and watch her windows. She told me that her parents travel a lot. It looks like I’ve lucked out and that’s the case tonight. The only movement I see in the apartment is Maddy, lounging on a couch with her laptop.
It feels gross to spy on her longer than necessary, so I walk back down to the street and approach her building the normal way.
A few seconds after I buzz her, Maddy’s voice pipes uncertainly out of the intercom.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” I say into the mic. “It’s Stanley.”
There’s a lengthy pause, long enough for me to consider that this was a stupid idea. She could be peering down at me right now, hoping that I’ll slink off into the night and leave her alone. Or, worse yet, she could be calling the cops.
I’m relieved when the door finally buzzes, letting me in.
Maddy’s apartment is on the third floor. I bound up the stairs. She’s waiting for me in the hallway, dressed in baggy pajama pants, a tank top, and an unbuttoned cardigan sweater.
“Are you okay?” Maddy asks as soon as she sees me.
I realize how I must look. I’m wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and in the time since then I’ve endured my most intense Lecture Hall workout ever and slept on a rooftop. Belatedly, I run a hand through my hair and try to brush some wrinkles out of my T-shirt.
“I’ve had a really bad twenty-four hours,” I tell her honestly.
“I think I know what you mean.” She gives me a nervous little smile. “So . . .”
“I’m sorry to just show up,” I explain, in a rush to defuse the awkwardness. “I just—I’m not sure when I’ll be able to see you again and I wanted to apologize in person.”
“Thank you for coming,” Maddy says, a note of relief in her voice. And then she’s hugging me, her face pressed into my chest.
I let myself enjoy that moment, trying to commit to memory how her body feels pressed against me, wrapped in my arms.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she whispers, “but you kind of smell.”
Just as I thought, Maddy’s parents are out of town. She invites me in, joking that breaking their rule about having boys over while they’re away is nothing after flagrantly violating their stance against high-speed car chases. I laugh, but I also notice the bruise peeking out from under Maddy’s sweater where the seat belt dug into her shoulder and I feel guilty all over again.
Maddy insists that I take a shower. She gives me a pair of her Dad’s sweatpants and a faded NASA T-shirt and sends me into the
I leap to my feet, punching the air in celebration. After everything I put her through last night, even after the whole thing with the kiss, and she still wants to see me again. That has to mean something, right? With one simple text Maddy has reassured me that the connection I felt between us is real.
Even knowing that it can never be simple and easy between us, that eventually this brief freedom I have will be gone and I’ll be swept back up in my destiny—even knowing all that, I still have to see her. I know I can set things right between us. And maybe I can have just one perfect, normal moment.
I bound across the rooftops as the sun sets, a shadow above the heads of tired commuters. I chart a course across walls and windows and power lines, heading for Maddy’s house.
I’m cautious during my approach. The Mogs were following me last night, so they’re obviously onto me. I need to make sure they’re not still lurking around. They could be anywhere. I prowl the surrounding blocks, sticking to the rooftops, one eye always on my iMog.
There’s no sign of any danger.
From across the street I scope out Maddy’s house. I feel sort of like a stalker. The sight of parents would be almost as bad as the sight of Mogs. Showing up unannounced might not go over too well with Maddy’s folks. I don’t want to have to throw pebbles at her window.
I climb up the building opposite Maddy’s, careful to stay hidden, and watch her windows. She told me that her parents travel a lot. It looks like I’ve lucked out and that’s the case tonight. The only movement I see in the apartment is Maddy, lounging on a couch with her laptop.
It feels gross to spy on her longer than necessary, so I walk back down to the street and approach her building the normal way.
A few seconds after I buzz her, Maddy’s voice pipes uncertainly out of the intercom.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” I say into the mic. “It’s Stanley.”
There’s a lengthy pause, long enough for me to consider that this was a stupid idea. She could be peering down at me right now, hoping that I’ll slink off into the night and leave her alone. Or, worse yet, she could be calling the cops.
I’m relieved when the door finally buzzes, letting me in.
Maddy’s apartment is on the third floor. I bound up the stairs. She’s waiting for me in the hallway, dressed in baggy pajama pants, a tank top, and an unbuttoned cardigan sweater.
“Are you okay?” Maddy asks as soon as she sees me.
I realize how I must look. I’m wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and in the time since then I’ve endured my most intense Lecture Hall workout ever and slept on a rooftop. Belatedly, I run a hand through my hair and try to brush some wrinkles out of my T-shirt.
“I’ve had a really bad twenty-four hours,” I tell her honestly.
“I think I know what you mean.” She gives me a nervous little smile. “So . . .”
“I’m sorry to just show up,” I explain, in a rush to defuse the awkwardness. “I just—I’m not sure when I’ll be able to see you again and I wanted to apologize in person.”
“Thank you for coming,” Maddy says, a note of relief in her voice. And then she’s hugging me, her face pressed into my chest.
I let myself enjoy that moment, trying to commit to memory how her body feels pressed against me, wrapped in my arms.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she whispers, “but you kind of smell.”
Just as I thought, Maddy’s parents are out of town. She invites me in, joking that breaking their rule about having boys over while they’re away is nothing after flagrantly violating their stance against high-speed car chases. I laugh, but I also notice the bruise peeking out from under Maddy’s sweater where the seat belt dug into her shoulder and I feel guilty all over again.
Maddy insists that I take a shower. She gives me a pair of her Dad’s sweatpants and a faded NASA T-shirt and sends me into the
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