Read Online The Sovereign Era (Book 2): Pilgrimage by Matthew Wayne Selznick - Free Book Online

distracted by the Lina stuff, and I think whatever rush my mother had felt from the television show had faded. We didn’t order dessert. At least she let me drive the car to the restaurant.
    We got home in one piece, and I retreated to my bedroom. It felt sort of poetically appropriate to put on the new Hüsker Dü record Car had loaned me, given how tangled up we all were. I put on my headphones, turned out the lights, lay on my bed, and let it spin, hoping I could turn my brain off for forty-five minutes.
    That didn’t work so well. Pretty much every song on the damn record might as well have been written for my life. I put myself through it anyway, even getting up to flip the record over after “Too Far Down.”
    Maybe I felt like I deserved it. By the time the mournful piano of “No Promise Have I Made” came around, I had tears on my face.
    One more song, and the record was done, and so was I. I pulled the headphones off my head and spaced out, staring at the maps on the wall over my desk for a few minutes.
    I’d had a thing for maps as soon as I’d been old enough to understand what they were. The idea that I could look at a piece of paper, a drawing, and see places far away from what I knew, far away from what I had to deal with day in and day out, was a powerful distraction.
    It didn’t do much for me that night. Maps represented all the people in all those places, too. In one of those places, somewhere in one of those little dots, was Eric Finn. Somewhere else, probably not far away, was Lina Porter. And too far away from her…was me.
    Eventually, I fell asleep on top of my bedspread.
    My head wasn’t in any better place Sunday morning. I tried to take Graham Porter’s advice and not bother his daughter. The whole thing was driving me buggy, though. I had to talk to somebody about it.
    So I called a conference with Mel and Jason, my closest and oldest friends. As usual, we convened in Mel’s bedroom, where they were already waiting for me when I arrived.
    Mel’s bedroom had all the same stuff on the walls—framed Disneyland prints, album jackets, and a giant foamcore Duran Duran display he’d managed to finagle from Pinnacle Records—but I felt a little out of place there. I realized it had been a month, at least, since the three of us had hung out.
    “Nathan!” Mel and I clasped hands. I noticed he’d shaved the wispy chin-hairs he’d been sporting, but seemed to be cultivating something on his upper lip. He smiled but seemed a little on edge to me. “We haven’t seen you in a while, good sir.” He glanced at my hair. “What’s with the leopard spots?”
    I ran my hand over the dye job on my short hair. “I dunno. Just something to do.”
    Jason and I shook. “It’s boss, dude.” I was relieved to see his own snaggle-toothed grin was as cheerfully unburdened as always. “You been pretty busy hanging out with the big kids, I guess, huh?” He punched me in the shoulder, a tap.
    I laughed. “I know, I know. It’s been weird since I got on independent study. Makes it harder to see you guys.”
    Mel nodded. “It’s a long walk between our houses, that’s for sure.”
    We lived two blocks apart.
    “Uh…yeah.” I didn’t need to be hassled, not now. Not today. I needed their help.
    Jason shrugged and ran his thumb and index finger across his own bushy blonde mustache. “Hey, everybody’s busy. Y’know, doing homework, ditching class…being on TV shows…”
    “Ugh.” I grinned. “Did you watch that horrible thing? I’m trying to forget it even happened.”
    “Dude. I watched it, then it was on the news that night, too.”
    “National news, that is.” Mel gave me a pointed look.
    “What?” This wasn’t good. “Why?” My profile was high enough as it was.
    Mel sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of the four milk crates holding his record collection. “Who knows? Slow news day?” He looked up at me. “Whose idea was that fiasco, anyway?” This time, his smile