Dessert First Read Online Free Page A

in the dark in my room, lit only by the computer screen. The door thudded closed downstairs, from Dad finally getting home from work, after Skippy’s quick who-woke-me-up bark. “Evan, you’re my hero, and officially great.”
    “Whew. You finally noticed.”
    I don’t know what he meant by that, but I had to hang up. “Dad just got in. I’m not supposed to be on the phone after eleven.”
    “It’ll be our secret. Good-night. Sweet dreams.”
    “Uh, you too. See you tomorrow.”
    “You mean today.”
    I laughed. “Right. ’Bye. See you today.”
    I sat back in my chair in the darkness and smiled at the glowing blue computer screen. I’d done exactly zero homework, which put me one day behind, but it was still early, not like the deep, undone homework crater at the end of last year. Plenty of time to dig out.
Yes
.
We would help Beep stomp cancer. I emailed Mom, put in the links about the trial, and told her Evan and I had found it. I sent Evan a bcc, to make sure he knew I was giving him full credit. I even copied Dad’s work email, which I figured Dad would check again before bed because it was only 2 A.M. I hit send. It felt great.
    • • •
    It was a shame to waste that nice feeling on being asleep, because the next morning Rachel exploded at me by 7:03. We share one bathroom, so we have a schedule. I shower first, then Rachel takes twice as long, since she has actual gorgeousness to assemble.
    Tired from being up late, I played tag with the snooze alarm. That put me behind, so Rachel pounded on the bathroom door. Mom had spent the night at the hospital, and Dad had already left for work.
    “Why don’t you take less time?” I opened the door, wrapped in a towel, letting steam escape. “And settle for almost completely stunning.”
    “Why don’t you stop being a selfish jerk?”
    Okay, game on. “Oh—you need extra blow dryer time? To inflate your air head?”
    “What I need is sleep. You kept me up all night yelling through the wall on the phone.”
    Exaggeration. Evan and I had been talking excitedly, not yelling, and Rachel hadn’t gotten home until after midnight, long after school-night curfew.
    “For your information, I was finding Beep a clinical trial.”
    “Because you’re so damned perfect.”
    I don’t know where that came from, especially from perfect Rachel. I was still annoyed that she’d left everything to me. “At least I was doing something. Not abandoning everyone.”
    “You’re awful.” She barged past me. “No wonder you have no friends.”
    Okay, ouch.
    She slammed the bathroom door in my face, so I yelled through it. “Except you were doing something. With Brian. Moaning the theme song of the Berkeley back seat petting zoo.”
    While she was trying to assemble a response, I added, “Which you’ve moaned to so many boyfriends, guys at your school probably hum it when you walk by.”
    “Bitch” was the nicest word I could make out, muffled through the door.
    • • •
    I was still in a bad mood when I was picked up by carpool. Mad at Rachel and mad at myself for getting in a fight with her, again.
    Evan was smiling, but when he saw my grumpy expression, it faded. “Thought you’d be in a better mood.”
    “I was, but Rachel started hating on me.” And reminding me I’m a total loser. I slid into the back seat next to him. “Sorry. Just the usual.” I’ve complained about Rachel before.
    “Well,” he said a minute later, when we pulled up to Tyler’s house to pick him up, “at least you know Beep’s relapse isn’t disrupting things at home.”
    I rewarded that effort with a weak smile, which was the best I could manage. Actually, until Beep got cancer the first time, Rachel and I got along.
    • • •
    “Hey, Crazy Kat.” Tracie Walsh, my soccer teammate and least favorite person, blocked my path in the hall that morning between second and third period.
    I was not in the mood to deal with Tracie, but her hanger-on friend Ashley had me blocked