Read Online The After Girls by Leah Konen - Free Book Online
Authors: Leah Konen
Tags: General, Juvenile Fiction, Suicide, Social Issues, Friendship, Mysteries & Detective Stories, Depression & Mental Illness, Physical & Emotional Abuse
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Astrid almost ready to open up, how she’d just walked away. “She was my best friend, and looking back, it’s like I barely knew anything about her. I didn’t even know her dad’s
name
. I should have done things differently
.
”
“It’s
not
your fault,” Audie said. “Astrid was a quiet girl, a disturbed girl. Nothing you could have done would have changed that. It’s a tragedy, just like what happened to her dad. It’s just a tragedy.” Audie put her hand on her cheek then, but Sydney couldn’t even bear looking up. What if it was like that thing in psychology, the thing where all the people just watch a crime happening, and no one does anything because they think the other person will — bystander something? What if that was them — Astrid crying and crying for help and she and Ella just standing there, waiting for someone else to take care of it? She wished there was something stronger in her tea, something that would erase the thought.
The timer dinged, and Sydney felt herself jump. The moment was broken, and Audie moved her hand back to her lap. “Scones,” she said quietly. “You’ll stay for one?”
Sydney shook her head. “I should go.”
“Wait,” Audie said, ignoring the beeping timer. She shuffled over to the bookcase, grabbed the first one on the shelf. “I want you to take this,” she said. “I think it’ll help.”
Her aunt pushed the book into her hands:
The Other History of Falling Rock
. It was Audie’s pride and joy. A book that they now sold in town gift shops, the kind of shops that also sold hemp jewelry and postcards. It had taken Audie ten years to compile.
Sydney opened it to the first page: “What follows is a history which not all will believe …”
“The ghost book?” Sydney asked. “I don’t really think — ”
“It’s not just about ghosts,” Audie said. “It’s about loss. It’s about spirits moving from one world to the next. About how this one here is just one stop on the journey.”
Sydney felt her stomach knot. The dead, spirits, whatever you wanted to call them, were a huge part of Audie’s worldview. Guardian angels. Ghosts hanging out in old places. A whole other world full of specters and unusual sounds in the night. Most of the time Sydney found it at least mildly funny, just another one of her aunt’s quirks. Now was not that time.
Sydney scooted her chair back and stood up. She wasn’t in the mood for any half-cocked philosophies or theories. Astrid had left. Astrid was gone. And she wasn’t coming back. Maybe Sydney could have done something months ago, but now there wasn’t anything that could help — especially not some bullshit book.
“Thanks for the tea,” she said, but it came out as a snap. “I should go.”
And she breezed through the beaded curtain before her aunt could protest.
Up at the front, her uncle was checking out a customer. Her fiddle, newly strung, was ready on the counter. “Thanks,” she said quickly, as he counted change out of the register. She flicked her eyes to the large grandfather clock, though she still had plenty of time before practice. “I’ll see you later.”
Her Uncle Sid handed the customer his bag and then turned to her. “You stay longer next time, okay?”
Sydney nodded, walking quickly out of the shop.
It was only once she got to the car that she realized that she was still holding the book in her hands.
• • •
Max was a jerk at practice.
“Come on, Sydney,” he yelled. “Focus!”
Sydney shot him a look but it didn’t stop him.
“The show’s tonight, the fair’s this weekend, and you’re all over the place.”
In just days, he’d gone from supporting, loving, eager-to-hook-up Max to demanding dictatorial Max. She’d experienced the transition before, but she’d at least thought his good mood would last a bit longer this time, considering. It was like he was two different people. When he wanted her (whatever she was to him), he was sweet and comforting.
name
. I should have done things differently
.
”
“It’s
not
your fault,” Audie said. “Astrid was a quiet girl, a disturbed girl. Nothing you could have done would have changed that. It’s a tragedy, just like what happened to her dad. It’s just a tragedy.” Audie put her hand on her cheek then, but Sydney couldn’t even bear looking up. What if it was like that thing in psychology, the thing where all the people just watch a crime happening, and no one does anything because they think the other person will — bystander something? What if that was them — Astrid crying and crying for help and she and Ella just standing there, waiting for someone else to take care of it? She wished there was something stronger in her tea, something that would erase the thought.
The timer dinged, and Sydney felt herself jump. The moment was broken, and Audie moved her hand back to her lap. “Scones,” she said quietly. “You’ll stay for one?”
Sydney shook her head. “I should go.”
“Wait,” Audie said, ignoring the beeping timer. She shuffled over to the bookcase, grabbed the first one on the shelf. “I want you to take this,” she said. “I think it’ll help.”
Her aunt pushed the book into her hands:
The Other History of Falling Rock
. It was Audie’s pride and joy. A book that they now sold in town gift shops, the kind of shops that also sold hemp jewelry and postcards. It had taken Audie ten years to compile.
Sydney opened it to the first page: “What follows is a history which not all will believe …”
“The ghost book?” Sydney asked. “I don’t really think — ”
“It’s not just about ghosts,” Audie said. “It’s about loss. It’s about spirits moving from one world to the next. About how this one here is just one stop on the journey.”
Sydney felt her stomach knot. The dead, spirits, whatever you wanted to call them, were a huge part of Audie’s worldview. Guardian angels. Ghosts hanging out in old places. A whole other world full of specters and unusual sounds in the night. Most of the time Sydney found it at least mildly funny, just another one of her aunt’s quirks. Now was not that time.
Sydney scooted her chair back and stood up. She wasn’t in the mood for any half-cocked philosophies or theories. Astrid had left. Astrid was gone. And she wasn’t coming back. Maybe Sydney could have done something months ago, but now there wasn’t anything that could help — especially not some bullshit book.
“Thanks for the tea,” she said, but it came out as a snap. “I should go.”
And she breezed through the beaded curtain before her aunt could protest.
Up at the front, her uncle was checking out a customer. Her fiddle, newly strung, was ready on the counter. “Thanks,” she said quickly, as he counted change out of the register. She flicked her eyes to the large grandfather clock, though she still had plenty of time before practice. “I’ll see you later.”
Her Uncle Sid handed the customer his bag and then turned to her. “You stay longer next time, okay?”
Sydney nodded, walking quickly out of the shop.
It was only once she got to the car that she realized that she was still holding the book in her hands.
• • •
Max was a jerk at practice.
“Come on, Sydney,” he yelled. “Focus!”
Sydney shot him a look but it didn’t stop him.
“The show’s tonight, the fair’s this weekend, and you’re all over the place.”
In just days, he’d gone from supporting, loving, eager-to-hook-up Max to demanding dictatorial Max. She’d experienced the transition before, but she’d at least thought his good mood would last a bit longer this time, considering. It was like he was two different people. When he wanted her (whatever she was to him), he was sweet and comforting.
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