Read Online The Whole Golden World by Kristina Riggle - Free Book Online Page B

could slow it down.
    She remained there and closed her eyes, searching her memory for clues. He wasn’t in the least bit swishy, but she should know better than to stereotype, anyway. There were gay athletes, weren’t there? Some NBA player? Military types, too. “Don’t ask, don’t tell” was about to be repealed, after all.
    But shouldn’t she have known anyway?
    Reviewing their friendship like a highlight reel, Morgan realized how seldom Ethan spent any time around guys in a guy kind of way, jostling around in the halls, shooting hoops, whatever. He’d gone to a couple of dances with that girl last year, seen a few movies with girls—including her, of course—but had he ever held hands with a girl in the halls? Sat in the cafeteria with a girl on his lap, or gotten yelled at for kissing at school? Had he ever, even once, referred to a girlfriend?
    Nor had he talked about a boyfriend, but then, he wasn’t “out.”
    â€œStupid,” Morgan whispered. “Stupid, stupid.”
    He was her friend! And didn’t tell her. She opened her poetry to him. In the past she’d confided her true feelings about her resentment of the twins, how guilty and shameful that felt. She told him things she’d never shared with another soul, and all along his whole identity was a lie.
    She stuffed her notebook away and picked up her phone, texting rapidly to David.
    Miss u. xoxo
    She did miss him. She’d been fooling herself all summer that it didn’t matter. It had only been out of sight, out of mind. Her disgust with his recent texting was only bravado. Secretly, she’d been happy to hear from him again. He must miss her, too, or he wouldn’t bother, when he could have any other girl in school.
    Her eyes were watering with strain as she peered at the screen, waiting for a response.
    Then, finally:
    thx ur sweet
    She frowned. What did that mean?
    She was still puzzling out her response when he texted again.
    hanging out with Britney now ttyl
    She quelled her first instinct to smash her phone into bits by placing it with exaggerated, trembling care on her pillow. Instead she flung open her poetry notebook, scribbling fragments of verse that zipped through her mind like darting birds.
    Â 
    In the forest stalking
    On the plains walking
    On the water gliding
    On the muddy bottom, dying
    ~
    Speak but no one hears
    Gaze but you can’t see
    Climb but never reaching
    Letting go and falling free
    ~
    No one cares about
    The bee till it stings
    So why would it fly on by?

10
    R ain had long since perfected the art of watching without staring, and she deployed that skill now, keeping TJ in her sights, though she was supposed to be listening to a semistranger talk about the fashion benefits of wide-leg pants.
    TJ moved to the kitchen and opened another Stella Artois plucked from the drink bucket on the counter, pouring it into his glass so rapidly it glugged and foamed. In the open-plan, modern home of Gregory and Alessia Hill, Rain had all too clear a view from the living room right to him, where he propped himself against the counter, staring into his beer.
    Rain nodded at a story this party guest was telling, unable to hear her, hoping this woman wasn’t saying something dire or terribly amusing requiring more than a nod. The ivory living room surrounded islands of people, in clusters of three or four, who chatted and laughed, their volume making Rain think of the penguins at the zoo and how loud it is when the man with the fish comes out.
    TJ looked up and met her eyes. Rain tensed; would he feel under surveillance? Guilty? Indignant?
    She winked, affecting playfulness. She smiled, though she was already tired of smiling.
    He returned her wink with a tight smile, stretched out across his face like a mask. When he walked back into the living room, every step seemed heavy.
    Alessia was gliding toward Rain and her companion suddenly, a broad smile across her long,