November Blues Read Online Free Page B

vomit.”
    â€œHey, remind me never to get on your bad side. But you’re right. How you know so much, Olivia?”
    â€œI just see stuff. When we have our class reunion in ten years, I’ll be the one who’ll be able to remember everybody’s secrets from high school.”
    â€œIf they realize that, you might not be invited,” Jericho said.
    â€œHah! They probably won’t invite me anyway! I’ll be the one they forget about, the one whose address gets lost, the one nobody cares didn’t show up.”
    â€œTalk about dissin’ somebody—why you always comin’ down on yourself?”
    â€œIt’s easier if I do it first,” she replied quietly.
    â€œYou gonna do marching band again next year?” Jericho asked, to change the subject.
    â€œProbably. Tambori is cool, and I love my sousaphone. Walking around with that big old thing strapped on makes me feel powerful!”
    â€œAnd tired?”
    Olivia laughed. “Wimps like you play the trumpet. You gotta be tough to handle a tuba or a sousaphone! What about you? You know Tambori be drooling over somebody who’s actually got skills with an instrument. Most kidsshow up in the band with just a horn, a big grin, and no idea how hot those uniforms can get when you’re marching.”
    â€œYeah, I know,” Jericho replied. He suddenly felt he couldn’t meet her eyes. “But I may go out for football this year instead,” he finally admitted.
    â€œTalk about wimping out! You want to join the crew of the giant sloths?”
    â€œHey, don’t be talkin’ ’bout my boys, now,” Jericho told her with a laugh. “They eat rocks for breakfast and rip their pillows to shreds before they go to bed at night.”
    â€œSounds like a bunch of Neanderthals to me! You sure you want to be a part of that?”
    â€œI need a change. I need to hurt something, hit something—you feel me?”
    â€œYeah, actually, I do. Hang in there, Jericho. I better get to class.” She started down the hall.
    â€œHey, Olivia!” Jericho called.
    â€œYeah?” she replied, turning.
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œKnocking some sense into me. I needed that.”
    â€œIf I remember correctly, you were the one who knocked me down,” she replied, grinning.
    â€œMaybe I should do that more often!”
    â€œDon’t even think about it!” Olivia disappeared into the thinning throng of students.

CHAPTER 7
NOVEMBER
FRIDAY, APRIL 23
    â€œHI, SWEETIE, I’M GLAD YOU’RE HOME already. Did you have a good day at school today?” November’s mother, an eighth-grade art teacher, breezed into the living room carrying the day’s mail. Her hair, which she wore softly blow-dried, fluffy, and long, seemed to float along with her orange-and-red-hued African caftan in one fluid movement. She tossed the stack of envelopes on the telephone table and reached over to turn on her satellite radio. Soft blues music filled the room.
    November sat curled on the sofa, sipping on a diet cola. She held the TV remote in her other hand, mindlessly flipping through the stations. She barely looked at her mother. “Yeah,” she mumbled.
    â€œDon’t you do tutoring at the YMCA on Friday afternoons?” asked her mother.
    â€œI didn’t feel like going.”
    â€œThat’s not like you. What’s that kid’s name—Neelie—who you’re so fond of? You spend so much time down there that little girl must think you’re her other mama!” Mrs. Nelson teased. “Won’t she miss you this week?”
    â€œI guess,” November said as she stared at a woman selling pearls on the home shopping channel.
    â€œWhat’s wrong, November? Are you coming down with something?” Her mother looked concerned.
    â€œI’m fine. Just a little tired. I think I’ll go take a nap.” November clicked off the