Shade Me Read Online Free

didn’t recognize it, but whoever it was, they were way desperate, a realization that made orange start creeping over the numbers, blotting out their correct colors. I recovered the phone, gripped it tightly, and hit the answer button, half expecting to feel the heat of that orange against my cheek.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œUh, yes, is this Nikki?” a woman’s voice on the otherend said, and then went on before I could even answer. “I’m trying to reach Nikki. It’s an emergency.” Definitely not the same childlike voice that had called earlier.
    â€œThis is Nikki,” I said. “Can I help y—”
    â€œYou must come quickly,” the voice said. “She’s in terrible shape, barely hanging on.”
    â€œWhat? Come where? Who is this?”
    The woman on the other end took a frustrated breath. “This is Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center calling,” she said. “You need to come right away. She might not make it through the night.”
    â€œWho?” I asked. There was no “she” in my life. The only real “she” who had ever been in my life was my mother, and she had died long ago. “She who?”
    â€œWe were hoping you could tell us,” the voice said. “We’ve brought a girl in. An anonymous caller found her, but he was gone before the ambulance got there. You’re the only contact number in her phone. She has no ID, no nothing.”
    I paused, pulled the phone away from my ear, and studied the numbers again. “I don’t . . .” I don’t have any friends, I wanted to finish, but that sounded too pathetic to divulge, even to a stranger. I didn’t have any. Not real friends. Not in this fucked-up town full of plastic dolls and expensive wannabe whores. I had my stock of social media “friends,” and my sparring “friends” at the dojang , and maybe even some ofJones’s idiot bro-gang “friends,” but anyone I’d actually hang out with? Anyone who would have me, and only me, in their phone contacts list? Never. “I think this is a mistake.”
    â€œWould you be willing to at least come and see if you can identify the girl? We really need to get ahold of the family.”
    â€œIt’s that bad? She’s, like, not conscious?”
    â€œYes,” the nurse answered. “And I can’t stress enough that you need to hurry. Please, Miss . . .”
    â€œKill,” I supplied for her. “I’m Nikki Kill.”
    She cleared her throat, the way so many people do when they hear my last name. “Please, Miss Kill. She may not have much time.”
    â€œAnd this isn’t a prank.”
    â€œAbsolutely not. This is the hospital calling. I’ve—”
    â€œBecause if it is, and you’re just messing with me, you are some kind of sick jerk,” I interrupted.
    There was a pause, and then the nurse’s voice came back, sounding very serious. “I can assure you, what has happened to this young lady is no joking matter. You’ll see when you get here. If you’re going to come, you should do so soon.”
    I stared out the window, considering my options. “Okay, I’ll be there,” I said reluctantly.
    This was too weird. It couldn’t be a mistake—the nurse knew my name—but it sure as shit could be a joke. I mostly flew under the radar at school, but maybe Jones had finallygotten angry about the breakup and had turned some of his bro-gang and bro-gang sympathizers against me. Was Jones capable of that? I didn’t think so. Jones was much more the follow-you-around-begging type.
    Out of habit, I pulled out another cigarette, but just as I held the lighter up to it, I froze. I couldn’t ignore what I knew. The orange. Something in the caller’s voice had made me feel orange. My cynical side told me this was a setup. But the orange in my head told me this was a true emergency.
    And I was