Read Online Secret Star by Nancy Springer - Free Book Online

day.
    After school, and after getting called to the guidance office as usual when the deficiency notices went out, she hiked to the IGA to see whether she still had a job, and she did. Butch had said she was sick. They knew she didn’t have a phone. It was okay. So Tess went back to the stockroom to get to work.
    Butch was there. “Hey,” he said, flashing his famous grin at her. “You notice I didn’t tell them anything.”
    She had expected him to be mad at her, like yesterday. But he wasn’t. And she still had her job. She smiled at him.
    â€œI’ll buy you a soda over break,” he said.
    She wanted to read magazines over break. There was a special issue of Rolling Stone all about Crux—nobody knew who this guy was and they could still write about him, like what the songs were supposed to mean, and what the name “Crux” was supposed to mean, what kind of cross, like the Christ cross or a pagan universe symbol or a tree of life or an ankh or the constellation Southern Cross or what? Or just an X, like a poor man’s mark? Tess had read the article and she wanted to read it again, she wanted to memorize it. But Crux was just a dream, right? Here was a real boy saying he was going to buy her a soda. A cute boy. A popular boy.
    â€œSure,” she answered, even though what he’d said hadn’t sounded like a question. “Thanks.”
    She worked till closing that night. Then slept like a sack of potatoes, no nightmares. Was back at the IGA at eight the next morning, Saturday, and worked all day.
    She looked for Kam at breaks but didn’t worry when he wasn’t there. He had said he was sticking around. Anyway, she had nothing to tell him yet.
    Every two hours “Secret Star” came on the radio and Tess stopped whatever she was doing to listen. The song made her breathless every time. Strong words, but it was the strong, complicated rhythms that made her tingle—those, and the strong, wild voice. She’d know that voice anywhere. She played it in her head. She heard it sometimes in her dreams.
    â€œI’ve got the CD,” Butch told her.
    The last couple of days Butch was being so nice Tess was beginning to think maybe he really did like her. It seemed impossible, but if that wasn’t it, what was going on? He had bought her a Pepsi, a Milky Way bar, an ice cream sandwich. He talked with her while they were working and during breaks. He told her things. Like her, Butch didn’t have a mother. His father traveled a lot making speeches. His father expected him to go into one of the military academies after high school.
    At the back of her mind, Tess had always kind of believed in the Cinderella story, all those romantic stories where the boy was bad like a wild stallion but he was good to the girl so the girl knew he really loved her, love like a miracle that changed her life. Tess’s life needed help so bad, maybe Butch was her miracle. Maybe Butch was going to make her his girlfriend, make her popular. Maybe Butch was her prince.
    â€œThe Crux CD,” Butch said. “I have it.”
    â€œYou twit. I hate you.”
    He took this the way she intended it, as friendly envy. “You want to hear it?”
    â€œNooooo.” As if he didn’t know she about wet her pants every time Crux came on the radio. Butch knew she wanted to hear that Crux album worse than anything.
    â€œI’ll play it for you after work.”
    She was supposed to go home. Daddy would have supper waiting. But she would have walked through razor wire to hear that CD. Tess said, “Okay.”
    â€œI’ll show you my room. I got all sorts of things you’ll like.” Butch sauntered off.
    Lupe was listening. When Butch was far enough away she said softly, “Tess. You know, he is the kind—I hear him talking to his friends. It is all about what he does to girls. How he scores.”
    But that was just the way the popular