The Sweetest Thing You Can Sing Read Online Free Page A

rain.
    I pull my hoodie over my head as I step outside. Not only is it raining but it’s cold. I bury my hands in my pockets and consider searching out Izzy after all. Her mom usually picks her up by the south doors near the office and I’m about to head that way when my eardrums pick up on Nicole Lapatas screeching at some lanky junior guy I don’t know by name.
    She’s only six feet away and I can’t avoid hearing her scream, “You’re disgusting! You’re going to be one of those guys whose best friend is his hand forever and who’s still living in his parents’ basement when he’s forty because no girl will go near him!”
    The lanky guy laughs, stares intently at his phone, and intones, “Ooh, you’re sexy when you’re mad, Nicki.” I can’t see the image on his cell from where I’m standing but the noise from it is clearly audible. Some guy’s shouting encouragement to Nicole, telling her she’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen and oh yeah, baby, YEAH, Nicki, baby, that’s it …
    The guy looks up from his cell, a dirty grin stuck on his lips as he says, “You got some nice moves here. Why don’t you want anyone to see them?”
    Nicole grabs for his phone, but she’s not fast enough. He yanks it into the sky above his head and laughs again as she jumps for it. “You are a frisky one, aren’t you?” He whistles low but flicks his eyes away from mine when he sees me staring. His laughter turns embarrassed and then stops completely. “Okay, okay — there,” he says, slipping the cell into his backpack. “Happy now?”
    “Fuck you,” Nicole declares, worry lines etching into her forehead. She reaches for his backpack this time, sliding the zip halfway down before he fights her off.
    “Calm down,” he tells her. “ Ree-lax , Nicole. Just chill, would you?”
    Nicole hasn’t given up. Both her hands lunge for his backpack, all her weight and energy focused on it like she means business. The guy pulls back fast, spinning away from her and upsetting her balance. He doesn’t glance back to see her crumple to the ground. He’s halfway to the football field by the time I realize it’s up to me to do something.
    Nicole Lapatas is lying across the littered cement, one of her legs folded under the other and her skirt askew. I step towards her, realizing as I do that someone else is hurrying in her direction too. I bend down in front of Nicole and say, “Are you okay?”
    Genevieve Richardson, last year’s student council treasurer, crouches down next to me. She extends her hand to Nicole, who takes it and pulls herself up. “God, that looks sore,” Genevieve declares, her eyes on Nicole’s injured bare right leg, which is both scraped raw and covered in runny mud and itty bitty pebbles.
    I groan inside as I stare at it. There’s a cigarette butt on the ground between us which could easily have wound up fused to her skin too. “It’s too bad you weren’t wearing pants,” I say sympathetically.
    Nicole nods at me. Her eyes have filled with tears.
    “Are you all right besides that, do you think?” Genevieve asks, her long red hair falling over her shoulders as she scrutinizes the wound. “Does it feel like anything’s broken?”
    Nicole places her weight solidly on her right leg and shakes her head. At that moment Jacob and Orlando strut right by us. Jacob eyes Nicole’s leg and I’m sure he notices that she’s crying too, but he doesn’t say anything. Suddenly I want to run after him and thump him hard on the back. He’d either laugh at me or act like I was being hysterical and the thought eggs me on. I have the crazy feeling that I’d do it, if only Genevieve and Nicole weren’t next to me.
    “You’ll have to clean that out really well,” Genevieve continues. “You don’t want it to get infected.”
    Nicole winces as she peers down at her leg. “I hope it doesn’t scar.”
    “It doesn’t look deep,” Genevieve tells her. I nod in agreement, still visualizing