When You Were Mine Read Online Free Page A

makes you you can’t be separated. For instance, Olivia’s seven is that she always has some item of purple on, even if it’s just her key chain. Olivia wants her seven to be her hair, because she loves her hair, but Charlie says purple is way more interesting. My seven is that I don’t drive. I mentioned to Charlie that that’s sort of a negative thing, but she just brushed me off. “It makes you stand out,” she said. “It’s awesome.”
    I didn’t get my license until my seventeenth birthday, which means I might as well have waited until forty. It’s not that I don’t like responsibility. I love responsibility. I’m a good student. I’m organized. I’m a good friend, most of the time. But driving freaks me out. Big-time. The possibility of an accident just seems so close. I mean, these massive metal tanks zooming around trying not to crash into each other? I could never shake the feeling that by driving I was taking someone’s life in my hands. So I’ve just never done much of it.
    My parents still bought me a car, though. An old white Camry off a colleague of my dad’s who was moving. I think they thought it might provide some incentive for me to want to get behindthe wheel. It didn’t work. Every time I sit in the driver’s seat, my hands sweat and my heart starts racing. It’s weird, I know. I’m a teenager , for crying out loud. Driving is supposed to be the thing I love the most. Freedom, escape, independence. I get it, trust me. But for me it’s way less excitement and way more terror.
    There are a few seniors sitting on a bench near the right-hand windows. A girl named Dorothy who has been called Dorky since, like, the sixth grade, and Len, which is shocking. I don’t think he’s ever been on time to school. Plus, also, isn’t he supposed to be kicked out? Charlie’s rumor mill isn’t always ironclad, but it’s usually at least grounded in 10 percent truth.
    “Hey.” I wave to Dorothy. Len gives me a smirk, like I’ve just singled him out for a personal greeting.
    “He is such a disease,” Charlie whispers to me. Then she looks up and announces, “I’m shocked they didn’t expel you.”
    “Who, me?” Len uncrosses his arms. They fall to his sides, revealing a purple T-shirt with a yellow lightning bolt down the front. Another thing about Len: He always wears long sleeves, even in the summer. It’s bizarre.
    He tilts his head, and a brown curl swings down onto his forehead. He’s got this mess of curly hair that makes him look part mad scientist, part high school dropout. I think the only redeeming feature he’s got is his eyes. They’re big and blue and round, like gemstones stuck right in there.
    “Why would they expel me?”
    “Because you are a leper,” she says. “You’re, like, infecting this place.”
    Len’s eyes flit from Charlie to me. “What do you think, Rosaline?”
    It’s not like Len and I speak regularly or anything, but he’s got this habit of calling me by my full name. It’s so patronizing. He can’t even address someone without being annoying. Definitely his seven.
    “I don’t really have an opinion,” I say. “Because I don’t really care.”
    Charlie and Len look at me, impressed.
    “Helloooo?” Olivia is waving a hand over her head, trying to get our attention about something. She’s talking to Lauren, who is on the student activities committee with us—or SAC, as we call it. We had AP English together last year, and she lives a few doors down from Rob and me. I volunteered us to take her to school last year, but Charlie said it was out of our way. Which is ridiculous, of course, but not very surprising.
    “You can see my bra ,” Olivia squeals, holding out her bottle of sparkling water to us as evidence. It’s currently spraying all over her tank top, and Lauren steps to the side, presumably in search of drier ground.
    “Not a bad way to kick things off,” Len says.
    “You’re nauseating.” Charlie grabs my elbow and drags