Read Online Truest by Jackie Lea Sommers - Free Book Online Page A

Fairbanks to Green Lake was for Laurel (and not for Mrs. Hart’s job, whatever Silas said); if Laurel had agoraphobia, she’d have wanted to stay put. Or maybe she’s just really shy—but then I remembered how shehad introduced herself to Dad, held out a confident hand to shake his, how her eyes had met mine with ferocity.
    Oh my gosh: Was she crazy? Like, legitimately, certifiably insane?
    Or maybe it was something really different—like an allergy to sunlight. It was possible: there were two girls in Enger Mills, a couple towns away, who had this. I always forgot what it was called, but the school had to put this special film over all the windows in the building, and they had to wear helmets and gloves outside.
    Such speculations even prompted a dream: a strange one where I followed Laurel around the high school halls (in my bathing suit, no less), wondering about the large brass key she carried in her hands. The halls were not filled with water, but I did the front crawl nevertheless, and that detail made me laugh out loud when I woke up and remembered it.
    I visited Mark Whitby at the mini-mart that week while he was working, and he—correctly—assumed I was checking up on him. Whit was the loose cannon of our group—the biggest sweetheart, but also the most unpredictable. As Elliot and I had guessed, he’d been partying over at Simon Sloane’s back forty.
    â€œBut you almost got a minor there last fall!” I complained. “I wish you wouldn’t drink like—”
    Whit gave me a look, his dirty-blond hair falling into his eyes, daring me to finish my sentence like your dad.
    â€œâ€”like a fish,” I revised lamely. Whit’s dad was a very tricky subject, best left for conversations not happening in the candy aisle of the mini-mart.
    Whit gave me a big grin, all teeth, then took my face in his hands, kissed my forehead with a loud muah! “I’ve got everything under control,” he said, which made me worry more.
    That same day, I took my family’s car to Enger Mills and picked up a toasted sub sandwich to surprise Elliot while he worked, but when I got to the Thomas farm, he was nowhere to be found, even with Caleb and Greg and Mrs. Thomas all helping me look. I called him and texted him for half an hour before giving up, going home, and eating the cold sandwich alone in the church bell tower.
    I tried calling Trudy, but—as usual—it went straight to voice mail. But a minute later, she sent a text: Can’t talk now, but miss you! I’m coming home for the 4th of July!
    This news buoyed me after a rough afternoon and filled me with such a generous spirit that when Silas called soon after and asked me to come over, I said yes.
    Silas’s parents were very welcoming; Mr. and Mrs. Hart invited me to call them Glen and Teresa, which was nice but a little too chummy—I’d known Elliot’s parents my whole life but would never call them by their first names. Silas’s parents were an attractive couple, both with dark hair like his, and they were rarely home during the day, as Glen was doing research foran astronomy article and Teresa was already advising graduate students at her new job at the university. They told me to keep Silas in line and to make myself at home in their house, to help myself to whatever was in the fridge, to let myself in whenever the front door was unlocked. “Which it usually will be,” Teresa said, smiling. “I know how this town works.”
    I let myself into their house several times that week, heading up the stairs to Silas’s room and rapping on his door as annoyingly as I could. But he always opened it grinning, as if our day included wild adventures instead of detailing cars, talking about books, and watching WARegon Trail. Our plans never included Laurel; our conversations rarely.
    On Friday, I let myself into their house as I’d been doing and started up the stairs,