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

 
    “Heroes. Plural. That would be you. And me. And the
gardener.”
    Speak for
yourself. I’m nobody’s hero. I roll my eyes and say, “Whatever. So what’s the gardener’s name? Does he fight
with a spade or a rake? Do you even know the difference between a weed and a
flower?”
    Lagan holds his hand over his heart and throws his head back
before saying with theatrical gusto, “Ouch! Feeling my heartbeat slowing to..a ...”—he falls off his stool— “stop.”
    “Now if I ROFLOL, the school newspaper will report a
cafeteria poisoning. That might get us a better menu. Hmm? Now there’s food
for...What were we talking about?”
    Back upright with his lower lip slightly jutting, I wonder
if he’ll ever get used to a girl who is not easily impressed.
    He answers my question. The next day at lunch, he hands me a
book.
    “ The Beautiful Fight by Blank,” I read aloud. “Sounds
violent.” Besides, how can there be anything beautiful about fighting? “Who’s
Blank? Is he a one-name wonder like Madonna or Sting?”
    “ Haha . Blank is where you fill in your
name. Because you’re part of the story. Wanna borrow
it? I put Sticky Notes to mark my favorite parts.” He slides it over to my side
of the cafeteria table.
    “With all my free time...” I’m pretty certain that between
Dad’s lists and homework, I’ll never get to it. I pick up the book and check
the Post-it notes. They’re blank, like the author name. “Okay, on one
condition.”
    “Oh, I forgot to mention,” Lagan says, “I don’t need it back
anytime soon. I have a second copy. Keep it. Or not.”
    “Yeah. That’s what I was gonna ask.” How did you know? I don’t do well with deadlines. And sounds like that’s the case, so... “Thanks.
I think.”
    I turn over the average-sized book that has a plant budding
from the earth with a brilliant red sunrise in the backdrop. Pretty. On closer
examination, that’s no plant. It’s a sword, the sun’s rays creating a brilliant
metallic luster when they hit the emerging weapon.
    When I get home, I carefully move Mom’s precious strand to
Lagan’s book. Now I have two people to think about each time I open this book.
Whether I read it or not is TBD.

 
 
    CHAPTER
EIGHT
    The
date is February 7. We’ve been playing these games for five months, and   Lagan still has no clue regarding the
hell I return to each day after school. I shake my head, Etch –A Sketch-style,
and soak in Lagan’s latest innovation to enter my head and heart. He names our
conversation over lunch today, “Face-to-Face,” giving me two Sticky Notes
during math class—one with a happy face and one with a sad
face—with instructions to bring them to lunch with me.
    Basically, I put one face on each side of my tray: on the
left sits the happy face, and on the right, the sad one.
    “If the word I say makes you happy, put your hand on the
happy face. If it makes me sad, cover the sad face.” Lagan smiles, and I nod.
Simple enough.
    I pick up a spoon heaping with applesauce. My lips are well
scabbed over for a change, so they don’t sting as I eat today. I swallow a
second spoonful and wait for the first word.
    Lagan clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling.
“Blueberries.”
    I move my left hand over the happy face. I prefer
raspberries, but blueberries are a close second.
    After looking side to side, Lagan says his second word:
“Swimming.”
    I put my hand back on the smiley face. Swimming reminds me
of Mom. Plus I love that the world becomes silent underwater. I think of the
beach near our Benton Harbor home. The last time I swam was over five years
ago, when Jess wasn’t bedbound. I have no idea when I’ll swim again, but if
given a choice, I’d choose the life of a fish any day.
    “Reading.” Lagan’s next word pulls me to the surface of my
shallow dive into the past.
    Another easy one—happy face covered again. Although I
do hate reading one thing: the lists with Dad’s perfectly legible