Read Online Users by Andrea M. Alexander - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andrea M. Alexander
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snapped. “ No one out there is anything like Iggy.”
His vehemence took me by surprise. I wondered if Iggy had any idea just how much this guy liked her. Maybe even loved her. Iggy wasn’t kidding when she’d said she trusted Wesley with her life.
“Does she know how you feel about her?” I asked him a few minutes later.
Wesley’s brows drew together . “I owe Iggy my life.”
My eyebrows raised, and I took a deep breath. I’d never before met someone who felt so intensely about someone else. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it was uniquely fierce. I really wanted to know the history between them, but I knew Wesley would be offended if I asked. Still, I was too curious not to ask any questions at all. “How old are you, Wesley?”
“Nineteen.”
A year younger than me. Yet he seemed older. Maybe life had made him that way. I wondered if losing his parents was what had made him so stony and cold. “Where and when did you meet Iggy?”
At first, I didn’t think he was going to answer. But then he said, “I met her at a summer camp when we were eleven.”
That was about the time we stopped coming down to the farm for vacations. My parents had never explained why we'd stopped visiting my aunt and uncle, and I planned on asking Mom some day. In fact, I had a lot of questions for her. When she finally got down here.
I edged the car forward and pulled out my cell, calling both of them. I got no answer at all. Not even the option to leave a voice mail. I hadn’t realized I was gripping the steering wheel so tightly until my hands began to ache and I looked down to see my knuckles were white. I let go of the wheel and watched blood flow bring color back into my fingers.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and rain pelted the windshield. The passenger’s side window was rolled down, and I looked out to see Iggy plant her hands on her hips, look up at the sky, and shake her head. Her hair had just started to dry out, and now it was plastered against her skull again. She and Cody still had a long wait ahead of them.
I rolled up the window and grabbed some napkins from the glove box to wipe down the seat. Though the air was cool, it was humid, and the windows immediately began fogging up. My phone pinged, indicating I had received a text. Cody.
WTF is wrong w these people! Slow line!
I typed, Our line isn’t any faster . I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel for a minute and then looked in the rear view mirror. “Mind if I turn on the radio?”
Wesley shrugged. Though I searched for a music station, the only thing on the radio was the news. Every broadcaster talked about fires, bombings, robberies, murders, businesses shutting down, and utilities going out. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought our country had been nuked and invaded by Russia or Iraq. And after fifteen minutes of reporters shouting, interviews of people screaming, and the sounds of car crashes and police sirens, I began to feel like this was the end of the world. Armageddon. Game over.
I shut off the noise and was relieved to finally begin turning into the gas station parking lot. I glanced back at Wesley who swiped at the window again and peered out. I had the defogger on full blast, but it wasn’t doing much good.
I jumped when I heard a loud boom and the crunch of metal, and I rolled down my window. In the median just up the road, three cars had crashed into each other, crumpled and contorted. The door of an SUV fell open and someone staggered out. Steam belched out around a pickup’s hood. Several witnesses had pulled over and were piling out of their cars to surround the victims of the crash. Soon, the crowd was so thick I couldn’t even see the cars involved in the accident. But still no sirens could be heard. No police cars or ambulances had shown up.
Wesley wiped at his window again, frowned, and then rolled it down. He whipped out his cell and tapped the screen. I rolled down the passenger’s window, staring through
His vehemence took me by surprise. I wondered if Iggy had any idea just how much this guy liked her. Maybe even loved her. Iggy wasn’t kidding when she’d said she trusted Wesley with her life.
“Does she know how you feel about her?” I asked him a few minutes later.
Wesley’s brows drew together . “I owe Iggy my life.”
My eyebrows raised, and I took a deep breath. I’d never before met someone who felt so intensely about someone else. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it was uniquely fierce. I really wanted to know the history between them, but I knew Wesley would be offended if I asked. Still, I was too curious not to ask any questions at all. “How old are you, Wesley?”
“Nineteen.”
A year younger than me. Yet he seemed older. Maybe life had made him that way. I wondered if losing his parents was what had made him so stony and cold. “Where and when did you meet Iggy?”
At first, I didn’t think he was going to answer. But then he said, “I met her at a summer camp when we were eleven.”
That was about the time we stopped coming down to the farm for vacations. My parents had never explained why we'd stopped visiting my aunt and uncle, and I planned on asking Mom some day. In fact, I had a lot of questions for her. When she finally got down here.
I edged the car forward and pulled out my cell, calling both of them. I got no answer at all. Not even the option to leave a voice mail. I hadn’t realized I was gripping the steering wheel so tightly until my hands began to ache and I looked down to see my knuckles were white. I let go of the wheel and watched blood flow bring color back into my fingers.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and rain pelted the windshield. The passenger’s side window was rolled down, and I looked out to see Iggy plant her hands on her hips, look up at the sky, and shake her head. Her hair had just started to dry out, and now it was plastered against her skull again. She and Cody still had a long wait ahead of them.
I rolled up the window and grabbed some napkins from the glove box to wipe down the seat. Though the air was cool, it was humid, and the windows immediately began fogging up. My phone pinged, indicating I had received a text. Cody.
WTF is wrong w these people! Slow line!
I typed, Our line isn’t any faster . I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel for a minute and then looked in the rear view mirror. “Mind if I turn on the radio?”
Wesley shrugged. Though I searched for a music station, the only thing on the radio was the news. Every broadcaster talked about fires, bombings, robberies, murders, businesses shutting down, and utilities going out. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought our country had been nuked and invaded by Russia or Iraq. And after fifteen minutes of reporters shouting, interviews of people screaming, and the sounds of car crashes and police sirens, I began to feel like this was the end of the world. Armageddon. Game over.
I shut off the noise and was relieved to finally begin turning into the gas station parking lot. I glanced back at Wesley who swiped at the window again and peered out. I had the defogger on full blast, but it wasn’t doing much good.
I jumped when I heard a loud boom and the crunch of metal, and I rolled down my window. In the median just up the road, three cars had crashed into each other, crumpled and contorted. The door of an SUV fell open and someone staggered out. Steam belched out around a pickup’s hood. Several witnesses had pulled over and were piling out of their cars to surround the victims of the crash. Soon, the crowd was so thick I couldn’t even see the cars involved in the accident. But still no sirens could be heard. No police cars or ambulances had shown up.
Wesley wiped at his window again, frowned, and then rolled it down. He whipped out his cell and tapped the screen. I rolled down the passenger’s window, staring through
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