Read Online One Week (Stolen Kiss #0.5) by Shana Norris - Free Book Online
Authors: Shana Norris
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roadside bomb and . . .” She shrugged. “Jude hasn’t been the same ever since.”
#
Two hours later, I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time. It was 9:12. Way too early to call it a night, but the party had long ago lost its appeal.
At least six different girls had already thrown up in various bushes, two guys nearly broke their necks trying to do drunken back flips, and I had avoided the clumsy passes of so many guys I’d stopped keeping count. I would have gladly taken one Gropy Garrett in their place. Ashton was off somewhere, trying to work up the nerve to talk to Carter, while Kate had disappeared with Syke, the guy she’d spoken to when we first arrived.
I wandered around the grassy clearing in the valley, clutching the same beer I’d carried all night. Every now and then, I’d pour a little bit out whenever I thought no one was looking. It was now half-empty. Empty enough that I could say I was drinking it, yet full enough that I could decline any offers for another one from the glazed-eyed wannabe frat boys.
I wondered if I’d stuck around long enough to satisfy Mark on the “expanding my horizons” thing.
But I knew already what Mark would say. I hadn’t really made an effort. I’d stuck with Ashton and Kate, talking only to them until they’d abandoned me, and then I moped around the outer edge of the party alone.
“Did you bring it?” A voice nearby caught my attention. I thought at first that the guy was talking to me, but then I saw him just over my shoulder, standing with another guy.
The second guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small orange bottle. “‘Course I did.” He rattled the bottle at his friend and grinned.
Icy tendrils tickled down my spine as little orange bottles flashed in my memory. Dozens of them, some empty, others still containing a few pills. The shoebox next to my dad’s head, where he lay so still, I thought he was dead. Mom freaking out when she found us, ripping the box out of my hands. Bottles tumbling to the floor, rolling away under my parents’ bed.
Mom had presented an image of perfection as she announced to everyone downstairs that my father wasn’t feeling well. “Probably just the sushi he had last night,” she said, laughing. Everyone had left, telling Mom they hoped Dad felt better soon. I had watched from the landing at the top of the stairs, frozen in place and unable to say or do anything. Once the last guest was out the door, expressing their concern for my dad’s condition, Mom finally picked up the phone and called 911.
Now my teeth chattered and I dropped the beer, sending the liquid splashing across my legs and shoes. I felt sick, and I had to get away. Away from the orange medicine bottles. Away from the people. Away from everything.
Chapter Four
Chapter Four
I stumbled up the hill, slipping on the grass and half-crawling, half-running as I scrambled away from the laughter behind me. I shouldn’t have come to the party. I should have stayed in Willowbrook. I should have gone to Paris with Mom like I had originally planned.
It didn’t matter anyway. I couldn’t hide, not in Asheville, not in Paris, not anywhere. I needed an entirely different planet to run to.
Once I crested the hill, I ran down the path, past cars and people, until my lungs felt like they were about to burst. When I couldn’t breathe anymore, I stopped, leaning against a car as I bent over, gasping.
I had ridden to the party with Ashton, so I didn’t have a car to drive myself back to Aunt Lydia’s. I wasn’t even sure that I knew the way from where we were. The party was off of a very dark, quiet two-lane road somewhere in the mountains outside Asheville. Around me were cars parked along the edge of the trees, all of them dark and empty.
“Did you need a ride?”
I jumped at the voice behind me, clutching a hand to my chest. The guy from before—Jude Westmore, the one who had changed my tire—emerged from the shadows of the trees.
#
Two hours later, I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time. It was 9:12. Way too early to call it a night, but the party had long ago lost its appeal.
At least six different girls had already thrown up in various bushes, two guys nearly broke their necks trying to do drunken back flips, and I had avoided the clumsy passes of so many guys I’d stopped keeping count. I would have gladly taken one Gropy Garrett in their place. Ashton was off somewhere, trying to work up the nerve to talk to Carter, while Kate had disappeared with Syke, the guy she’d spoken to when we first arrived.
I wandered around the grassy clearing in the valley, clutching the same beer I’d carried all night. Every now and then, I’d pour a little bit out whenever I thought no one was looking. It was now half-empty. Empty enough that I could say I was drinking it, yet full enough that I could decline any offers for another one from the glazed-eyed wannabe frat boys.
I wondered if I’d stuck around long enough to satisfy Mark on the “expanding my horizons” thing.
But I knew already what Mark would say. I hadn’t really made an effort. I’d stuck with Ashton and Kate, talking only to them until they’d abandoned me, and then I moped around the outer edge of the party alone.
“Did you bring it?” A voice nearby caught my attention. I thought at first that the guy was talking to me, but then I saw him just over my shoulder, standing with another guy.
The second guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small orange bottle. “‘Course I did.” He rattled the bottle at his friend and grinned.
Icy tendrils tickled down my spine as little orange bottles flashed in my memory. Dozens of them, some empty, others still containing a few pills. The shoebox next to my dad’s head, where he lay so still, I thought he was dead. Mom freaking out when she found us, ripping the box out of my hands. Bottles tumbling to the floor, rolling away under my parents’ bed.
Mom had presented an image of perfection as she announced to everyone downstairs that my father wasn’t feeling well. “Probably just the sushi he had last night,” she said, laughing. Everyone had left, telling Mom they hoped Dad felt better soon. I had watched from the landing at the top of the stairs, frozen in place and unable to say or do anything. Once the last guest was out the door, expressing their concern for my dad’s condition, Mom finally picked up the phone and called 911.
Now my teeth chattered and I dropped the beer, sending the liquid splashing across my legs and shoes. I felt sick, and I had to get away. Away from the orange medicine bottles. Away from the people. Away from everything.
Chapter Four
Chapter Four
I stumbled up the hill, slipping on the grass and half-crawling, half-running as I scrambled away from the laughter behind me. I shouldn’t have come to the party. I should have stayed in Willowbrook. I should have gone to Paris with Mom like I had originally planned.
It didn’t matter anyway. I couldn’t hide, not in Asheville, not in Paris, not anywhere. I needed an entirely different planet to run to.
Once I crested the hill, I ran down the path, past cars and people, until my lungs felt like they were about to burst. When I couldn’t breathe anymore, I stopped, leaning against a car as I bent over, gasping.
I had ridden to the party with Ashton, so I didn’t have a car to drive myself back to Aunt Lydia’s. I wasn’t even sure that I knew the way from where we were. The party was off of a very dark, quiet two-lane road somewhere in the mountains outside Asheville. Around me were cars parked along the edge of the trees, all of them dark and empty.
“Did you need a ride?”
I jumped at the voice behind me, clutching a hand to my chest. The guy from before—Jude Westmore, the one who had changed my tire—emerged from the shadows of the trees.
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