What She Left Behind Read Online Free Page A

says the word “shit” eight times. After that I stop counting. Finally, there’s me. Surrounded by people yet completely alone, already missing Amber’s roots and Kevin saying “shit” and everything about this lame-ass town.
    I’m wearing jeans and a short-sleeve T-shirt and starting to feel kind of cold. Yesterday was so warm—what’s up with today?
    When I get to the Dairy Dream, I’m not sure what I should do. I’m too nervous to be hungry, which is a good thing since I didn’t bring a lunch and the Dairy Dream only sells variations on ice cream, nothing actually nutritious.
    For a while I sit on one of those yellow parking space markers, waiting for Mom, but then a car comes and some guy wants to park in my spot, even though there are plenty of other spaces. Jerk. So Istand up and head toward the outdoor counter, keeping my eyes on the street.
    Something cold smashes into my chest. Alex Maloy’s chocolate ice-cream cone.
    “Shit.” That’s Alex. I’m thinking the same thing, but I hold it in.
    “Sorry. Here, let me wipe that for you,” Alex says, napkin poised.
    He blushes as he realizes where the ice cream landed. “I mean, here you go. Here’s a napkin.”
    He chucks the remnants of his cone into a garbage can as I wipe.
    “Guess I’ll get another one.” He looks me in the eyes. “You want a cone, Sara?”
    I get this fluttery feeling in my stomach.
    “Okay,” I say, even though I’m not hungry. I can stuff down an ice cream if it means spending a few more minutes with Alex.
    I take a quick look around to see if my mom’s pulled up while I wasn’t paying attention.
    “Oh, that’s right, you’re Zach’s girl,” he says, tapping his forehead.
    “I’m not Zach’s girl.” I go with what I imagine to be a coy smile. “We’re friends, that’s all.”
    “Huh. Does that make you available, then?”
    Oh God. I nearly faint.
    “Just for the next ten minutes.” After that, you’ll never see me again.
    I can tell that he doesn’t know how to take that. He laughs. “Chocolate or vanilla?”
    “Vanilla, please,” I say. I’m too wired to notice what I’m eating anyhow. I give my ponytail a nervous twirl.
    “Two vanilla cones, please,” Alex says to Jessica’s mom, who’s working the lunch shift. Mrs. Hamilton was a stay-at-home mom up until last spring. I’m pretty sure the only reason she took the job is so she can keep tabs on her daughter. Jessica never goes to the Dairy Dream anymore. But Mrs. Hamilton still loves the job because she’s able to pump us for information about her.
    “Hi, Sara, nice to see you,” Mrs. Hamilton says as she hands me my cone. “Have you seen Jessica today? She seemed a little down this morning.”
    She seemed fine to me until I hit her in the nose with a volleyball. Amazingly no one has mentioned that to Mrs. Hamilton yet. Apparently I still have friends, even though I haven’t been all that social lately. “Yeah, she did look kind of depressed.” Maybe Mrs. Hamilton will think she got the puffy nose from crying.
    “See, you noticed it too. Glad to know I’m not just imagining things.”
    Mrs. Hamilton hands us our cones. I move away quickly before she can ask any more questions.
    I scan the parking lot. Where’s my mom? Did something go wrong?
    “So what is it we have to do for the history paper?” Alex asks, licking his cone.
    Here I am, on the verge of totally and completely freaking out about my mom, and Alex is asking me about a history paper. I want to tell him everything right then and there. But, let’s face it: Besides the whole Cujo thing, Alex is basically a stranger. A dark-haired,drop-dead gorgeous stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. So instead I say, “No idea.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    “Seriously, no idea. I wasn’t paying any attention and I didn’t take a single note.” I notice a streak of ice cream on his chin and point at my own chin as a hint.
    He doesn’t get it. He just scrunches his eyebrows and says,