Read Online Taming the Star Runner by S. E. Hinton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: S. E. Hinton
Tags: Juvenile Fiction/General
Ads: Link
excited, but Casey, right now, would say, âYeah? Thatâs great,â or something offhand that would make him mad. He didnât want to be mad right now. He didnât want to be mad, and didnât want to hear that a damn dumb, crazy gray horse was more important than his book.
His book. Heâd sold his book. For a few minutes there heâd been sidetracked, but it came flooding back over him now, and he knew what he wanted to do. Right now. As soon as he could.
He wanted to party till he puked.
He had never hitchhiked much at home, he hadnât needed to, his hangouts were in walking distance even if he hadnât had friends with wheels. And he didnât know anywhere to go, here.
He sipped a water-glass full of whiskey while he thought it over. Crown Royal was great, he decided, pouring a Coke-bottle full to take with him. It was just going to waste here; heâd never seen Ken drink anything more than a couple of beers.
He finished his glass with a couple of quick gulps. Hell, heâd just ask his ride where to go.
It was too hot for his leather jacket but he wore it anyway. He needed a place to stash his Coke bottle. Besides ⦠besides, between the jacket, and the whiskey, and news about his book, he was starting to feel like his old self again.
He ended up on a really good street. That was the good news. There were several clubs with live music, a couple of packed restaurants, and the clientele seemed to be pretty upscale; it didnât look like heâd have to spend the evening worrying about getting jumped.
The bad news was, it looked like the only thing open to somebody his age was the Quik Trip. He had a fake ID, but it gave his age as eighteen, so it was no good here. He strolled up and down the street a few times, checking things out, making a game plan.
One club was so packed that people spilled out onto the parking lot and sidewalks, wandering around with drinks in their hands, laughing and yelling to each other. It was hard to tell exactly where the club began and ended. These people probably were twenty-one, but not much more than that; he didnât feel conspicuous at all, hanging around the edges.
He bummed a cigarette, asked about the band, kept an eye on the doorway where the IDs were being checked. It wasnât too long before he had a chance to slip in.
He played it cool, squeezing into the back of the crowd, staying away from the bartenders. He picked up an empty glass to pour his whiskey into; when one of the harried cocktail waitresses saw him, she assumed
someone
had checked his ID when he bought a drink. It looked like he was going to get away with it. He relaxed and surveyed the scene.
It was the worst possible place for live music. The acoustics were so bad it was like being in a tin cave, and unless you were right up front you couldnât even see the band. But the music didnât seem to be important.
People stood around in small groups and yelled in each otherâs ears, the guys checked out the chicks, the chicks looked the guys over, sometimes the two groups ran together. They all seemed incredibly dumb to Travis. But then, when he had been ten, teenagers had seemed incredibly dumb, and by the time he was twelve he was dying to be oneâmaybe it was going to be like that.
Right now he couldnât imagine giving up hanging out for this kind of scene.
He bummed a Virginia Slim from a couple of girls.
âYou look awfully young to be in here.â The redhead, in tight jeans, high heels, and T-shirt, kept wiggling around to the music. She obviously wanted to dance.
âI just turned twenty-one today,â Travis said. âIâm celebrating.â
âReally? All by yourself?â
âIâm new in townâjust started law school.â
God, it felt good, the whiskey, the music, the telling of a story; it was like heâd been walking in his sleep the whole time heâd been here, up till
His book. Heâd sold his book. For a few minutes there heâd been sidetracked, but it came flooding back over him now, and he knew what he wanted to do. Right now. As soon as he could.
He wanted to party till he puked.
He had never hitchhiked much at home, he hadnât needed to, his hangouts were in walking distance even if he hadnât had friends with wheels. And he didnât know anywhere to go, here.
He sipped a water-glass full of whiskey while he thought it over. Crown Royal was great, he decided, pouring a Coke-bottle full to take with him. It was just going to waste here; heâd never seen Ken drink anything more than a couple of beers.
He finished his glass with a couple of quick gulps. Hell, heâd just ask his ride where to go.
It was too hot for his leather jacket but he wore it anyway. He needed a place to stash his Coke bottle. Besides ⦠besides, between the jacket, and the whiskey, and news about his book, he was starting to feel like his old self again.
He ended up on a really good street. That was the good news. There were several clubs with live music, a couple of packed restaurants, and the clientele seemed to be pretty upscale; it didnât look like heâd have to spend the evening worrying about getting jumped.
The bad news was, it looked like the only thing open to somebody his age was the Quik Trip. He had a fake ID, but it gave his age as eighteen, so it was no good here. He strolled up and down the street a few times, checking things out, making a game plan.
One club was so packed that people spilled out onto the parking lot and sidewalks, wandering around with drinks in their hands, laughing and yelling to each other. It was hard to tell exactly where the club began and ended. These people probably were twenty-one, but not much more than that; he didnât feel conspicuous at all, hanging around the edges.
He bummed a cigarette, asked about the band, kept an eye on the doorway where the IDs were being checked. It wasnât too long before he had a chance to slip in.
He played it cool, squeezing into the back of the crowd, staying away from the bartenders. He picked up an empty glass to pour his whiskey into; when one of the harried cocktail waitresses saw him, she assumed
someone
had checked his ID when he bought a drink. It looked like he was going to get away with it. He relaxed and surveyed the scene.
It was the worst possible place for live music. The acoustics were so bad it was like being in a tin cave, and unless you were right up front you couldnât even see the band. But the music didnât seem to be important.
People stood around in small groups and yelled in each otherâs ears, the guys checked out the chicks, the chicks looked the guys over, sometimes the two groups ran together. They all seemed incredibly dumb to Travis. But then, when he had been ten, teenagers had seemed incredibly dumb, and by the time he was twelve he was dying to be oneâmaybe it was going to be like that.
Right now he couldnât imagine giving up hanging out for this kind of scene.
He bummed a Virginia Slim from a couple of girls.
âYou look awfully young to be in here.â The redhead, in tight jeans, high heels, and T-shirt, kept wiggling around to the music. She obviously wanted to dance.
âI just turned twenty-one today,â Travis said. âIâm celebrating.â
âReally? All by yourself?â
âIâm new in townâjust started law school.â
God, it felt good, the whiskey, the music, the telling of a story; it was like heâd been walking in his sleep the whole time heâd been here, up till
Similar Books
