Read Online Summer (Four Seasons #2) by Frankie Rose - Free Book Online

gives me a sad smile. He leans against the railings beside me and nudges me with his shoulder. “Yeah, it might be. But whatever it is, Luke, you gotta get yourself sorted out. And I know I’ve been a pushy prick since we got here, and I won’t shut up about the band, but I’m saying this to you now because this whole situation is making you crazy. I don’t want my friend to be sad.”
    Cole’s never been this candid with me before. I feel like a complete asshole when I realize I have a lump in my throat. “I know. I will. I have to just figure it out.”
    “Maybe…maybe you should just let her go,” Cole says quietly. “You clinging to her isn’t loving her. It’s you being a selfish prick. You’re no good to her or us like this. Get some proper fucking sleep. The world looks like a different place when you’re functioning on eight hours, man.”
    I have no idea what Cole thinks he knows about a full eight hours sleep, but I nod anyway. “Maybe you’re right.”
    “Of course I’m right. Let’s go grab something to eat. We’ll work on the songs later.”
    “Has that short squatty bastard gone?”
    Cole laughs, offering me his hand. I take it and pull myself upright. “Yeah,” he says. “And I get it. I hate working with strangers too, but this is part of the deal, man. We just need to roll with the punches and take our aggression out on stage. And when we’re not on stage, we need to blow off steam in a seedy hotel with some hot bitch underneath us. Agreed?”
    “I don’t do seedy hotels, dude. I’ve seen too many dead hookers sprawled out on semen stained mattresses to ever willingly check into one of those dives.”
    Cole blows out his cheeks, shaking his head. “Whatever, man. Fuck a chick at the Hilton if it’s gonna make you feel better. I’ll even pay. But damn if your mind doesn’t go to some dark places.”
    I follow him inside, keeping my mouth shut, knowing that what he’s said is the straight up truth. My mind does goes to very dark, sinister places.  
    And isn’t that just the problem?

EIGHT

    AVERY

    THREE WEEKS LATER

    “I really don’t see why we need to do this.” Morgan grumbles in the seat next to me as I drive through the freak rainstorm we’ve just hit.  
    “You’re joking, right?”
    “No. Do you see me laughing, you crazy witch?” She leans back in her chair, lifting her tennis shoes up to the dashboard. I swat at her leg before she can get them up there.  
    “No way. Your manners suck royally, by the way. Jeez.”
    “You’re only just realizing this about me? Whatever. Look, I’ll buy you lunch and we can catch a movie instead. Just turn the car around.”
    “No. You’re going to your meeting, and I am going with you. It’s settled. Period .”
    “Narcotics Anonymous is not a tourist attraction, Avery Patterson.” She pouts in that way that only she can. “We’re not animals to be gawked at.”
    “Don’t even bother trying to pull that shit with me, young lady.”
    “You seriously do not need to come!” She’s growing more and more exasperated by the second, but I’m wise to her. I’m not backing down. “I don’t know why you think I need a chaperone,” she says, sulking.
    “You need a chaperone because I saw that letter on your kitchen table from the center, Morgan. I know you’ve skipped your last three meetings, and I know what your mom said when she left New York last year. She said if you missed one single appointment , she’d drag you kicking and screaming back home. And I can’t let that happen, okay? I need you here, with me.”
    Morgan remains silent.  
    “I’m sorry. I just can’t ever see you in another hospital bed, Morgan,” I whisper.  
    “It’s just so embarrassing. I feel like I’m failing at life,” she whispers back.  
    “Sweetheart, you have no need to be embarrassed. And you are not failing at life. Everyone’s addicted to something, one way or another.”  
    “Bullshit. You aren’t.”
    “Of