Solitary: A Novel Read Online Free

to.
    The first time we drove through downtown she seemed to barely remember it. She left when she was ten years old, the year her mother died. Her father took Mom and her older brother and headed north.
    North proved to be tough for the family. Very tough indeed.
    Strange that Solitary didn't mean enough for her to come and visit-not even once-yet it's the place she moves back to.
    Sometimes I don't think she wanted to move so much as to hide. And this is the place to do it.
    So far I haven't seen anything I recognize. No McDonald's or Subway or Starbucks or chain of any kind. Not just downtown, but anywhere.
    Surely North Carolina has chains somewhere. Give me a big, fat Wal-Mart and a Whopper, and I'll be a little less nervous.
    The downtown area consists of one block. A diner, a sheriffs office that looks like the one off that show with the kid named Opie, a place to get your hair cut (back home we call those salons, but this is no salon), a bookstore, a bank, a pub. A few other shops. They're all in various brick buildings, some beige, all polished and pristine. They look old and vintage, classy and clean.
    Yet the place also looks abandoned.
    Other than the shady character I just saw retrieving his dog, I don't see anybody else.
    It's the middle of a Saturday. Where is everyone?
    Our house is on the outskirts of Solitary, about ten minutes south of town, farther up in the rolling hills. The closest stores-gas, grocery, you name it-are all right here. On the gravel road our house stands on there's nothing except dense woods and a gushing creek cut down the hill that drops off from the main road.
    Just as I lock up my bike and stand back up, I see her.
    Jocelyn opens the door and steps inside the bookstore.
    And I begin to think that I might be the luckiest soul alive.
    "You don't have to hide," the voice says. "I saw you when you walked in."
    I'm standing in front of a wall of books labeled SELF HELP. I turn and see Jocelyn walking over to another aisle in the store.
    I decide it's impossible to pretend I just somehow wandered into The Corner Nook, a bookstore and cafe on the edge of the intersection off Main Street. I'm not looking for a book, and I don't drink coffee.
    I find Jocelyn browsing through a shelf of books. A dark waterfall of hair seems to rush over the back of her T-shirt. Then I notice something startling.
    A round, colorful tattoo on her inner forearm.
    "Much of a reader?" she asks without looking at me.
    "Not really."
    "That's a shame."
    "Looking for a book?"
    "Either that or I'm deep in thought staring at the shelf in front of me."
    I feel pretty stupid. For the second time this girl makes me feel like an idiot.
    "I come in here all the time trying to find new authors," she says. "Sometimes I'm lucky."
    She's holding a book in her hand, but I can't see the cover.
    "So what'd you find?"
    "Nothing."
    "C'mon. What is it?"
    Jocelyn looks at me, annoyed and unwilling to continue to play a game. "There. Happy now?"
    It's a paperback novel with two figures embracing in what looks like more than just a kiss. It's called Passionate Moon.
    I can't help but laugh.
    "Looks like deep literature."
    "I like all types of books, but I'm willing to admit it. I like romance. Even the slightly smutty kind."
    "Oh, just slightly smutty."
    "Did you come in here to make fun of me?"
    Actually, I came in here to admire you.
    "No."
    "It's Chris, right?"
    I nod.
    "English-and-history Chris."
    I nod again. Her hazel eyes seem to glow as she stares at me.
    "Have a good first week?"
    "Yeah. Most of my classes are pretty good. Well, English and history are."
    "Nice."
    "What?"
    She goes back to looking at books.
    "What'd I say?"
    "Nice line."
    "It wasn't a line-I was just being honest."
    "Honesty can get you in trouble," she says.
    "Yeah, I guess. But you never know if you'll have another opportunity to say the things you think but might not want to share."
    Okay, I don't know where that came from. Getting past the initial awkwardness