Read Online Set Me Free by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore - Free Book Online

I’ve gotten some tiny Asian girl named Ming-Bo or Satuko to share a room with, and they’re totally
     compulsive, total, like, neat freaks.” Sadie jumped up and ran to Amelia and put her arms around her. “No one as cool as you,
     my wonderful roomie. See how much we love each other?”
    “Good luck,” Wes said to Amelia. “My sister’s a psycho.”
    “Shut up, Wes. Don’t be a dick. Amelia’s, like, really cool. She grew up on an Indian reservation.”
    “For real?”
    “Not
on
the reservation, technically,” said Amelia automatically. “I live about twelve miles away from the Neige Courante reservation.
     My father runs a school there.”
    “Where is that?” asked Wes, leaning forward in his chair, interested.
    Amelia tried not to blush. “Here in Oregon. On the other side of the mountain. Near the town called Stolen?”
    “Cool,” said Wes, nodding. “Fucking cool. I bet you’ve seen some great shit.”
    Amelia shrugged. She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, except that it was a good thing to have seen this “great shit.”l guess
     so,” she said. “But mostly, it’s pretty boring. I mean, it’s the country. There’s not much to do except study. And play the
     violin.”
    “Right,” said Wes. He looked her straight in the eyes.
    “Where do you live?” she asked.
    “Over in Borden. The dorm of losers. I call it ‘Boredom.’” He nodded toward the window and leaned back, balancing his weight
     on two legs of the wooden desk chair. Then he smiled. “So, sis, are we going to do this or not?”
    “Yeah. Lights-out is in fifteen minutes. So you have to sign out right now and then go hide in the car. Pick us up in half
     an hour.”
    Amelia knew Sadie was talking about sneaking out, and that it was completely against the rules. Despite that, Amelia desperately
     hoped the “us” included her.
    “So what about you, Amelia? You up for it?” Sadie asked her. “We’re going to this great party. It’s Friday night, and I’m
not
going to spend it sitting in here waiting to die.”
    “But how will we get out?”
    “Wes is an expert at this shit. We already cut the screen, and lucky for you, we’re both skinny enough to fit through the
     window. And Wes stashed the groundskeeper’s ladder, didn’t you, my most wonderful big brother of all?”
    “See you down there,” Wes said, walking past them. As he brushed past Amelia, she could smell the sweat of him, the salt of
     him, and it made her feel a little happy and a little embarrassed. She could feel herself blushing. “Sure,” she said, “I’m
     in,” as the door clicked shut behind him.
    Later that night, after the party, as the three of them sat on a picnic table in Sellwood Park and searched the night sky
     for shooting stars, Wes asked Amelia if she’d like to be his little sister. That meant she would play second violin to his
     first in a duet partnership. It was a Benson tradition. Highly skilled upper-class musicians could choose a little brother
     or little sister to mentor in duets; later in the fall, they would hold an informal performance and a sight-reading competition.
     Amelia was overwhelmed.
    “But you’ve never heard me play!” she protested.
    Sadie laughed. “Oh, yes he has! He thinks you have talent.”
    “But when? When could he possibly have heard me?” asked Amelia. She’d made a point of practicing in the soundproof rooms in
     the basement of Haines Hall. She was, and always had been, a respecter of the rules.
    “Remember when I asked you to help me with that Haydn passage? That was a setup! Go on, Wes, tell her yourself,” Sadie said,
     shoving her brother.
    “I was outside the window.” He smiled slowly, spoke even more slowly. “I was checking you out.” He shrugged. “So is it yes
     or no?”
    If things had turned out differently—if Wes had been the kind of guy he’d seemed at first, and not the kind of guy who shoved
     a roll of eleven hundred-dollar bills into a girl’s hand to