Read Online Temptation: A Novel by Travis Thrasher - Free Book Online
Authors: Travis Thrasher
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won’t end in heartbreak and tragedy.
I just want something that will feel good.
And that will make me forget about all the other things that are so stinking bad.
20. Poe
Friday night, and I’m thinking of a girl I want to be with but can’t.
I guess this is just what I do.
I don’t want to say that you can insert whatever name you want into that “girl” I’m thinking about, but then again, I’m not so sure.
I do something I don’t usually do when I’m bored. I go online. And that’s when I see it.
An email from Poe.
She told me she’d be in touch, but she also told me not to hold my breath.
She said that right after giving you a kiss on your cheek.
She said that after seeing the tears in my eyes.
Then she said something that I’ve tried to avoid thinking about but can’t.
“Don’t let this place change you, Chris. You’re too good for that.”
I sigh. Too good for that. I’m not too good for anything. I shouldn’t have let her go. I should’ve fought. I should’ve been in touch. I should’ve figured out some way to make her stay. Or to at least not end the way it did.
Part of me still finds it ludicrous that the school actually believed that the drugs they found in her locker belonged to her.
I see the email and seriously wonder about opening it.
I wonder if somebody is still reading the emails I get.
Everybody is watching. Everybody.
For a long time I just stare at the unopened message, wondering what it says and how she’s doing. She hasn’t called in the army or the marines or even the National Reserve. No FBI agents have shown up around town. No detectives or SWAT teams or Navy Seals have come to my rescue.
What would they be rescuing me from? Huh? A weirdo pastor?
I delete the email without reading it.
If I can’t read it, that means no one else can either.
“Sorry, Poe.”
I am sorry.
Sorry that I never knew she liked me in the first place. Sorry for what might have been.
Story of your silly, sad life, Chris.
21. Answers?
When are you going to get started?
I’m sleeping and don’t want to be bothered.
People are getting impatient it’s time Chris it’s time.
It’s time for me to sleep.
No. It’s time for answers.
I open my eyes.
I swear … it’s like this voice in my head … it’s like it was right there next to me, whispering in my ear.
“I’m waiting,” I say in a hoarse morning voice.
Waiting on some answers.
But I refuse to go looking for them anymore.
22. A Little Care
There are reminders everywhere, things I just can’t seem to let go of. It’s one thing to try and bury memories or simply walk around ignoring them. It’s another to actually throw away something associated with a memory.
There’s the laptop that Iris gave me. I haven’t used it for fear that she might suddenly pop up on Skype or something. I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve seen a lot of crazy around here, so nothing would surprise me.
That picture that I found in my locker—the one of me smiling. It’s completely blurry and useless, like a snapshot someone took of the sun while riding a bike. Yet still I haven’t been able to throw it away.
A painting that I did in art class last semester.
The picture of the woods and the poem underneath it.
All the stuff that belongs to Mom’s brother, Uncle Robert. Other than the records and the T-shirts, everything is going untouched.
Even Midnight reminds me.
The Saturday sun is bright, and I just want to feel as good as I did a couple of weeks ago. I’m not going to let the darkness slip in again.
I’m a senior. Sure, my school and town are from hell, but besides that, I’m staring at my future. Soon I’ll be able to leave this place. This town and this cabin and all the secrets that surround it. I’ll let my mom figure them out. Or not. It’s up to her.
I tried.
I tried and failed.
What more can I do?
It’s eleven in the morning, and Mom is still sleeping when I answer the phone.
“This
I just want something that will feel good.
And that will make me forget about all the other things that are so stinking bad.
20. Poe
Friday night, and I’m thinking of a girl I want to be with but can’t.
I guess this is just what I do.
I don’t want to say that you can insert whatever name you want into that “girl” I’m thinking about, but then again, I’m not so sure.
I do something I don’t usually do when I’m bored. I go online. And that’s when I see it.
An email from Poe.
She told me she’d be in touch, but she also told me not to hold my breath.
She said that right after giving you a kiss on your cheek.
She said that after seeing the tears in my eyes.
Then she said something that I’ve tried to avoid thinking about but can’t.
“Don’t let this place change you, Chris. You’re too good for that.”
I sigh. Too good for that. I’m not too good for anything. I shouldn’t have let her go. I should’ve fought. I should’ve been in touch. I should’ve figured out some way to make her stay. Or to at least not end the way it did.
Part of me still finds it ludicrous that the school actually believed that the drugs they found in her locker belonged to her.
I see the email and seriously wonder about opening it.
I wonder if somebody is still reading the emails I get.
Everybody is watching. Everybody.
For a long time I just stare at the unopened message, wondering what it says and how she’s doing. She hasn’t called in the army or the marines or even the National Reserve. No FBI agents have shown up around town. No detectives or SWAT teams or Navy Seals have come to my rescue.
What would they be rescuing me from? Huh? A weirdo pastor?
I delete the email without reading it.
If I can’t read it, that means no one else can either.
“Sorry, Poe.”
I am sorry.
Sorry that I never knew she liked me in the first place. Sorry for what might have been.
Story of your silly, sad life, Chris.
21. Answers?
When are you going to get started?
I’m sleeping and don’t want to be bothered.
People are getting impatient it’s time Chris it’s time.
It’s time for me to sleep.
No. It’s time for answers.
I open my eyes.
I swear … it’s like this voice in my head … it’s like it was right there next to me, whispering in my ear.
“I’m waiting,” I say in a hoarse morning voice.
Waiting on some answers.
But I refuse to go looking for them anymore.
22. A Little Care
There are reminders everywhere, things I just can’t seem to let go of. It’s one thing to try and bury memories or simply walk around ignoring them. It’s another to actually throw away something associated with a memory.
There’s the laptop that Iris gave me. I haven’t used it for fear that she might suddenly pop up on Skype or something. I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve seen a lot of crazy around here, so nothing would surprise me.
That picture that I found in my locker—the one of me smiling. It’s completely blurry and useless, like a snapshot someone took of the sun while riding a bike. Yet still I haven’t been able to throw it away.
A painting that I did in art class last semester.
The picture of the woods and the poem underneath it.
All the stuff that belongs to Mom’s brother, Uncle Robert. Other than the records and the T-shirts, everything is going untouched.
Even Midnight reminds me.
The Saturday sun is bright, and I just want to feel as good as I did a couple of weeks ago. I’m not going to let the darkness slip in again.
I’m a senior. Sure, my school and town are from hell, but besides that, I’m staring at my future. Soon I’ll be able to leave this place. This town and this cabin and all the secrets that surround it. I’ll let my mom figure them out. Or not. It’s up to her.
I tried.
I tried and failed.
What more can I do?
It’s eleven in the morning, and Mom is still sleeping when I answer the phone.
“This
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