Salem's Sight Read Online Free Page A

– absolutely no
idea.” Berkley gave me the once-over to check for some catastrophe,
just the way I had a moment earlier. Nothing.
    We looked back to see if his face
would give us a clue, but he had evaporated like a ghost. I looked
in both directions, but couldn’t see any sign of him.
    “ Is he … strange, or … ” I
shrugged wondering how the mere sight of me could have sent him
running. I mean, really, it’s not my normal affect on
boys.
    “ No, he’s cool. Used to be
big man on the hockey team.”
    Okay, I know I’m an English geek but I
instantly picked up on the past tense. “Used to be? What happened?”
I turned to face her, wanting to know every detail about the hot
guy whom I’d repulsed at first sight.
    “ Not sure. He won the
championship game last season, but hasn’t been on the ice since.
Insists he’s not going to play this year. It’s kind of crazy
considering he might end up with a scholarship if he stays on the
team.” She paused and thought a second. “It could have something to
do with his mom though. She died last year. I’m pretty sure from
cancer. Anyway, that’s about the time he changed.”
    At her words, I stopped in my tracks.
I couldn’t help my visceral raw reaction.
    When it’s happening to you, it’s easy
to forget that it takes place everyday and affects many people. Not
as unique as I thought I was. Robby, the hottie, suffered too.
Death, the equal opportunity employer, treated everyone the
same.
    It’s so easy to look at people who
appear perfect and imagine they have perfect lives. My stomach
clenched and Berkley’s granola bar, which sat like lead, threatened
to reappear. I felt guilty for carrying around so much self-pity. I
was old enough to realize the world wasn’t revolving around
me.
    “ Come on,” Berkley said.
“We’re going to be late for class. And being new might work for
you, but it certainly won’t for me.”
    ****
     
    Okay, so it felt a little strange the
first time I had a friend over to my new house. In North Carolina
we had a show place and I guess I never realized how proud of it I
was. Everyone I knew had these big expensive homes and I never
thought much about it.
    So totally different now. For the
first time I felt self-conscious about where I lived. Which is
stupid. It’s not like it’s the slums or anything. Grandma’s house
is nice. It’s just small compared to what I was used to. And not
completely redecorated. Somehow, at this point in my life, it made
me feel… less. Not that I needed help in that department. Since the
accident, self-esteem has been one of my issues. It all related
back to guilt, but then again, what didn’t?
    Anyway, my point is, I was a little
edgy when Berkley came over for the first time, especially since I
hadn’t seen her house yet. I kept watching her reactions, which, to
my relief, seemed totally normal. That made me think maybe her
place wasn’t much bigger.
    She seemed at ease and strolled into
my room behind me. Still nervous, I thought I’d explain why it
looked such a mess.
    “ It’s still a work in
progress,” I said.
    She rolled her eyes like I must have
thought her dim witted. “Yeah, I know, you just moved in a few
weeks ago.” Then she plopped down on the blue bean bag chair. The
one that should have remained in North Carolina. The one that
belonged to another era and another life.
    “ I need a new bean bag,
this one’s falling apart,” I said almost to myself.
    She nodded in understanding. “That’s
the problem with redecorating. Once you start, everything that
isn’t new looks old and out of place.” She twisted her long brown
hair like she was wringing it out, and then tucked it inside the
back of her shirt causing a lump.
    I couldn’t imagine why she’d cover it
up. Her hair was shampoo-commercial gorgeous. Silky, shiny, and
almost to her butt.
    While mine was… average, nondescript,
nothing-special kind of hair. Well, that’s not exactly true. It was
a little past my