Booked Read Online Free Page A

apologizing
    for breaking up
    the family
    to chase
    her equine dreams.
    Then Dad starts
    telling her
    it’s not her fault
    and now
    he’s sorry
    for not paying
    enough attention
    to her
    and respecting
    her career.
    Â 
    And then they hug
    for like fifteen minutes.

Visitors’ Day
    While you’re figuring out
    the math of it all:
    Â 
    (Two more days in the hospital.
    Probably watch 8 to 10 hours of TV a day.
    For a total of 1,000 to 1,200 minutes.
    Which means you have to read
    at least 200 pages.
    ARGGH!)
    Â 
    Guess who strolls in?

Hello, Nicholas
    Ms. Hardwick?
    This isn’t a pigment of your imagination?
    Â 
    A malapropism, I remember.
    Very good. How are you feeling?
    Â 
    I’m cured, I guess, but I can’t play soccer.
    I’m sorry to hear that.
I didn’t have appendicitis, but I had kidney stones. It’s worse. Not fun. Not fun at all.
    Â 
    . . .
    We miss you in class.
    Â 
    Who is
we
?
    Since you’re gonna be out for a few weeks, I thought I’d bring an assignment.
    Â 
    . . . (Yay me!)
    Mr. MacDonald said you asked for a book, and it just so happens, we recently started a new one.
    Â 
    The Mac is a traitor, you think.
    He couldn’t make it today, but he will stop by tomorrow,
she says, handing you a book called
All the Broken Pieces. I think you may find a good read here, Nicholas.
    Â 
    Thank you, Ms. Hardwick. I’m taking a lot of antibiotic medication, you know, so I fall asleep a lot, so I’m not sure how long it will take me to read this, you say, yawning loud so she can hear you.
    Always the comedian. Nicholas, I brought someone to see you. Are you up to another visitor, or are you too sleepy?
she says, with a smirk.
    Â 
    You glance out of the window, wondering who it is. It’s probably Mr. Mac, trying to make an entrance. Sure, you answer.
    Well, then, you have a grand day, and a speedy recovery. I miss my wordsmith,
she says, winking.
    Â 
    You open the book, notice the number of pages, 240. Well, that’s promising, you think, as your next guest saunters into the hospital room.
    Hey, Nick.

This has got to be a
sweven
.
    Got. To. Be. A.
Sweven.
    There is no way this is happening.
    You must be daydreaming again.
    No freakin’ way.
    Â 
    Hi, Nick.
    Uh, hi, I’m, um, April, sorry, I’m just a little stup-id. I mean—
    Â 
    (And, of course, you mean
stupefied,
* but you’re too stupefied to actually say it.)

    Â 
    Sorry about your appendix. The whole class signed this.
    She hands you a get-well card signed by everybody.
    Â 
    I’m sorry you can’t play soccer. That must make you feel pretty, uh, irascent.
    You shoot her a look of surprise.
    Â 
    What?! It means angry.
    I know what it means.
    Â 
    I’ve been reading your dad’s dictionary,
she says, smiling.
    Where’d you get that?
    Â 
    Mr. Mac showed it to us at book club. A lot of cool words.
Wow! That’s, uh, interesting. I wouldn’t say it’s
cool,
though.
    Â 
    What letter are you on?
    X
.
    Â 
    Wow, almost finished.
    I’ve been reading it for, like, three years.
    Â 
    Whoa! Tell me an X word.
    Xu
.
    Â 
    Sounds like a
Z
.
    Yeah, most of the
X
words are pronounced like that.
    Â 
    What does it mean?
    It’s the money they used in Vietnam, before the war.
    Â 
    Like a dollar, only a xu,
she says, and you stare at her lips way too long.
    Exactly.
    Â 
    Well, I see Ms. Hardwick gave you the
Broken Pieces
book. It’s really good.
    You read it?
    Â 
    Yep, and, get this: the boy in the book is really good at baseball, and he’s from Vietnam. You’ll like it, trust me.
    (Did she just say
get this
?)
    Â 
    Okay, well, I gotta go. Text me, let me know what you think of the book.
    Uh, okay.
    Â 
    Bye, Nick. Get well soon, ’cause you and I have some dancing to do,
and she kisses you goodbye on the forehead more like a grandmother would, but that’s not going to stop you from never