The Book of Luke Read Online Free Page A

that’s when, in a single sniff, I realized that there may be some hope after all. I may have grown up and she may have grown out, but Josie’s hair still smelled like Pantene shampoo. Just like it used to.
    I kept inhaling, taking comfort in the idea that maybe Josie hadn’t changed that much.
    “So, when did you get back?” Josie asked, pulling away. “Are you all unpacked? How’s your new house? And why didn’t you call me the minute you got in? Forget it, it doesn’t matter, I’m just glad you’re back.”
    Josie had a tendency to do that, to ask a question and then not bother waiting for an answer.
    “I meant to call you,” I told her, hoping she’d believe me. Josie used to say I was a horrible liar. I used to take that as a compliment, but now I wished I were more comfortable spouting intentional half-truths. Or no-truths. “We’ve just been so busy getting settled and all.”
    The whole-truth was, I hadn’t called Josie in the forty-eight hours we’d been back because I was afraid. Afraid of getting on the phone and realizing we had nothing to talk about, or even that we didn’t want to find anything to talk about anymore. Afraid that, if she knew that my relatively ideal life had taken a turn for the worse, that I’d gone from pretty much succeeding at everything I did to failing miserably, she’d realize I wasn’t the same person she used to like.
    “The moving truck got here two days ago, and my mom is still going through boxes,” I told Josie, hoping that would be enough of an explanation. “Good thing I finally found a box of clothes, or I’d be wearing a Hefty bag.”
    Josie laughed. “You always did look good in green,” she told me before taking my hand and leading me down the hall toward the seniors’ lockers, and away from the no-man’s-land I’d been standing in by the bathrooms.
    “Lucy’s been sick since New Year’s Day, but she promised she’d be here today,” Josie assured me.
    And that’s when the door to the stairwell flew open and Lucy’s curly brown hair and red, chapped nose bounded toward us. “There you are,” she exclaimed, her voice deep and nasal, like she was imitating those people on the NyQuil commercials. “Don’t get too close, I don’t want to make you sick,” she warned, but that didn’t stop her from hugging me.
    “You look crappy,” Josie told her, standing at arm’s length.
    “I feel even crappier,” she assured us. “My mom wanted me to stay home but I told her you were coming today.” Lucy nudged me just like she used to when she wanted to get my attention. Or anyone else’s. Lucy was a nudger, an arm squeezer, a poker, and even an under-the-table kicker when necessary. She’s also been the captain of the varsity soccer team since her sophomore year and the starting center on the lacrosse team, so it’s not like any of these gestures was received without some degree of discomfort.
    “So, what do you think?” Lucy asked me.
    “About what?”
    “About everything! The way the school’s changed, how we’ve changed.” She eyed Josie’s chest but didn’t poke her, even though I knew it was probably killing her not to. “Do we look different? I mean, you’re taller, and your hair’s longer, but otherwise you look exactly the same.”
    I smiled, not because my hair was longer or I was taller, but because they really didn’t seem that different, either. “Besides the obvious, you guys look exactly the same, too.”
    “We don’t have much time before first bell, so start talking,” Josie instructed, taking a seat on the radiator lining the length of the hallway and pulling me down next to her. Lucy took my backpack and laid it on the floor before sitting down to my right.
    I had about seven minutes to cover two-and-a-half years. There was no way I could tell them everything, explain who my friends were, or describe what it was like living in the Midwest. Did I start by telling them that everyone in Chicago called soda