Don't Stay Up Late Read Online Free Page B

cheerful. What’s your problem, anyway? Can’t you see that my life is over ?”
    His mouth dropped open.
    I shook both fists at my sides. “I killed my father, Nate. How can I live with that?”
    He stared up at me from the chair. I could see his eyes dart from side to side. He was thinking hard. He didn’t know how to deal with me.
    Who would? I knew I was being impossible but I couldn’t stop myself.
    He lowered his hands to the arms of the chair. I think he wanted to get up. He wanted to leave.
    But the front doorbell rang, startling us both. And I heard a dog bark outside.
    â€œNate—it’s Morty!” I cried. I tugged Nate to his feet. “Someone has found Morty!”
    We both tore across the living room to the front door. I pulled the door open and held my arms out to hug my dog.

 
    8.
    The young guy on the front stoop wore a black leather vest over a white T-shirt and baggy denim jeans. He had a green and yellow John Deere cap pulled over his forehead. A stubble of black beard covered his tanned cheeks.
    â€œI saw your thing online about your missing dog,” he said. “I found him in my backyard and—”
    â€œBut that’s not my dog!” I cried. “That’s not Morty!”
    My voice came out high and shrill. Nate put a hand on my shoulder as if to steady me.
    â€œWrong dog,” he told the guy.
    The dog gazed up at me, panting softly. It was some kind of shepherd-mix. Its tail was tucked between its hind legs. A patch of gray fur on its back was missing.
    The guy squinted at me, then at the dog. “You sure?”
    â€œOf course I’m sure,” I snapped. I wanted to slam the door shut. I didn’t want to look at that ragged, forlorn animal on my stoop. I wanted Morty.
    â€œWho is it, dear?” Mom called from inside the house.
    â€œNo one,” I shouted back.
    â€œSorry,” the guy said. “I thought maybe—”
    â€œThanks for trying,” Nate told him.
    I pushed the door shut. I led the way back to the den. I was walking stiffly, as if every muscle in my body had tightened. Total tension and frustration and disappointment.
    Through the living room window, I saw the guy leading the dog down the driveway. He and the dog had their heads lowered with the same unhappy expression on their faces. It would have made a funny photo … if I was in the mood for funny.
    In the den, Nate slid his arms around my waist. His hair fell over his forehead as he started to kiss me. I cut the kiss off with a shudder. I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Nate. I’m just not good company right now. Seriously. You’d better go.”
    *   *   *
    Late that night I sat straight up in bed when I heard a dog howling outside my bedroom window. I was still in that space between asleep and awake, but I knew I wasn’t dreaming.
    The window stood half-open. The curtains at the window were still. No breeze tonight. But as I climbed to my feet, I could see pale lights, the sky clear and full of stars.
    I tugged my sneakers on without lacing them. And found my jean jacket in my closet. As I pulled it over my shoulders, I heard the dog howl again. A long, mournful sound.
    â€œMorty. I’m coming, Morty.”
    I crept downstairs. The steps creaked beneath my feet. The house was dark. It smelled of popcorn, the late-night snack Mom and I shared while watching a dumb comedy movie on TV.
    Moving silently, I made my way out the back door, across the dew-wet back lawn, and into the woods that stretched behind our house.
    The dog howled again. Close by. Very close.
    My heart started to pound.
    A brilliant full moon shone down through the trees. The sky was so clear tonight. Above the spring-bare tree limbs I could see the stars high above me.
    The moonlight … the starlight … made the whole world glow like silver. Unreal.
    The cool air made my skin tingle. I pulled the jean jacket