Read Online Swimming Through Clouds (A YA Contemporary Novel) by Rajdeep Paulus - Free Book Online

good day.” Like a light
switch, Dad’s voice softened, and he eased his eagle eye stare when he blinked
and smiled at her.
    “You too, sir. You too.” His tone assured her that
everything was fine, so she turned to return to her post by the main cafeteria
doors.
    When she reached far away enough to be out of earshot, Dad
turned to punctuate our meeting. “I’ll be checking in on you. Don’t test me.
Stick to the plan. And put the kettle to boil when I get home tonight. I plan
for you never to forget this day. My rules. My words...”
    Like a bad commercial I couldn’t fast-forward, the stares of
students drowned me. What I could tune out was his voice. I already knew the
last two words. The scars of “or else” pulsed like surgery wounds on a rainy
day. Brad’s tiny pursuit of me brought on the first time boiling water rained
down on my arm. My personal weather forecast all week, every week simply
became, “Rainy with a ninety-five percent chance of...more rain.” No surprises
there.
    The little sunshine I knew for those few weeks teased me
like a trip to Southern California. But there was no going back. My friends
quickly drifted away from me. Who wouldn’t retreat from a girl with a freak
dad? And Brad? He avoided my eyes, but he and I both knew there was no point.
He never rewrote the letter. I would never know for sure. Dad had complete
control of my life, and Brad walked away. It was easier to walk away. I
understood. I might have done the same thing had the tables been turned.
    And then the tables changed. From the wooden, splintering
tabletops of Benton Harbor to the smooth, Windexed laminate tops of Hinsdale North. Table for two had a fresh coat of paint on it.
And this girl had to do next to nothing. Besides never sit right next to
someone. Keep a watchful eye. And just show up.

 
 
    CHAPTER
SEVEN
    Leaving
Benton Harbor was easy enough. I had no friends. I had no mom. I had nothing to
look forward to and nothing to live for. Until now. Until Lagan. Close to two
years have passed since a boy, any boy, paid two seconds of attention to me.
    Each time that I peel off a Post-it note addressed to me,
Dad might emerge from behind my locker. Each time I eat a few seats down from
Lagan, Dad could turn up in the cafeteria, just to “check on me.” I remain on
guard always, and without spelling it out, Lagan adjusts to my pace, even when
my heart crawls slower than a limping snail. And yet, over several weeks, the
small doses of nods and exchanges amount to something I experience for the
first time. Ever. Friendship. A friend.
    The whole thing makes no sense. But Lagan, no matter how
many roadblocks I construct, continues to press on. Maybe he likes a challenge.
Or maybe he actually wants this. Each time I answer no, I wonder what makes him
return to me. To the possibility of me, that is.
    “Do you have a cell phone?” He interrupts me during American
History with a fresh set of questions, no assignment pending.
    “No.” I don’t bother looking up from my text to answer.
    Ms. Rose flips through a Time magazine at her desk.
    “Do you have an e-mail address?” Lagan asks his second
question.
    “No.”
    “Fax machine?”
    “Nope.”
    “Internet access?”
    “Nada.”
    “Are you allowed to get snail mail?”
    “Not unless it’s my report card.”
    “Do you want to go to the movies?”
    Wouldn’t that
be fun! “Yes. But no
thanks.”
    “Are you allowed to go out with friends?”
    Pause. Do you have to make me say it? Sigh. “No.”
    Then a breakthrough. Sort of.
    “Are you allowed to go to the library?”
    I think about this. For most of my school projects, Dad
purchased extensive encyclopedia software. If I can think of something I need
for school that isn’t covered, the library has potential. Still seems risky,
though. Dad would probably accompany me and stay until I checked books out.
“Maybe.”
    “Is your dad a cop?”
    “No.” More like an armed felon hiding under a fancy suit,