Read Online Shade by Jeri Smith-Ready - Free Book Online Page A

it up like a tent so the liquid would drip out.
    “Now what?” Megan dug her green fingernails into the tissue like it was the last one in the world.
    “Nothing. It has to dry for at least a day.”
    “How did you know what to do?”
    “Last year Logan spilled Coke on his laptop and totally fried it. So I looked up the procedure in case it ever happened to me.”
    “You’re so sensible.” She stroked my hair, picking out the gel-encrusted tangles. “And now you can’t obsess over those lies.”
    I put my face in my soda-sticky hands. “They’ll be talking about it at school Monday.”
    “I know, but you can’t say anything, okay? Gina told me that the Keeleys called right before I got here. They might sue the guy who gave Logan the cocaine. They might even sue the record company.”
    “But without Logan, it’s just the band’s word against the company’s, and Warrant will have a whole team of lawyers.”
    “You never know. Logan might still show up.”
    It was wrong to wish it, wrong to hope I’d ever see his smile again. I should’ve been praying for the passage of his soul, as Aunt Gina was probably doing downstairs, with a rosary and candles and an altar to Saint Peter.
    But I couldn’t help it. I wanted Logan back, even in violet.

Chapter Six

    Logan didn’t return that night in any color, not even in my dreams. Probably because I was sedated.
    Gina thought Valium would help my “condition.” I didn’t bother telling her that Logan was the only cure for my condition. I just shut up and took the flat yellow pill. It helped, if only by getting her off my case. Her eyes were full of grief, like
she’d
lost the love of her life.
    I didn’t wake up on Sunday until my cell phone rang. I picked it up off my nightstand, dreading the gossip seekers.
    The glowing screen said ZACHARY M. The name was vaguely familiar, and connected with something important.
    “Hello,” came a deep lilting voice. “I never gave you my address.”
    “Ohhh, no.” Friday seemed like it was three years ago. “I forgot about going to College Park today. I should’ve canceled.” We were supposed to be there in an hour.
    “Why?” he said. “What’s wrong?”
    This guy was outside my universe. He didn’t know. “My boyfriend died.” An imaginary knife twisted in my chest—a sign the sedatives were fading.
    “Christ, I’m so sorry. What happened?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “Okay.” He waited a few seconds. “What’s the name of the professor we’re supposed to meet with?”
    “Why?”
    “I’ll look up the number and ring them for you, to cancel.”
    My aunt opened the door a crack without knocking. “Who’s on the phone, hon?”
    “Someone from school.” When she didn’t retreat, I sent her a blank look. “This conversation is of an academic nature.”
    “No need to get snippy. I’m leaving.” Except she didn’t. “You sure I can’t get you some soup? I made escarole. You love escarole.”
    I turned my head away from her scrunched-up Sympathy Face. “Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute.”
    When Gina disappeared—leaving my door open, of course—I put the phone back to my ear. “What did you ask me?”
    “The professor’s name. Or number, if you have it. But I don’t mind looking it up.”
    The thought of spending another day lying in bed crying, or taking phone calls, or reading rumors on the Internet (assuming my laptop hadn’t suffered Death by Ginger Ale), made me shrivel up inside.
    “Give me your address.”
    *   *   *

    I picked Zachary up in front of his apartment building, on the other side of the Johns Hopkins University campus from my Charles Village neighborhood.
    He set his book bag on the passenger’s seat floor and slid inside. “Brilliant, right on time.”
    “I’m always on time.”
    “Me too. I hate when—” He stopped when he saw my face. “Bloody hell. You all right to drive?”
    “Yep.” I adjusted my glasses, the frames crooked from