What Happened to Ivy Read Online Free

doctor appointments that both my parents will go to. A lot of guys would probably see that as a chance to raid the liquor cabinet or have a girlfriend over. But my parents can’t afford to keep much in the liquor cabinet and I’ve never had a girlfriend.
    The afternoon is hot. Heat bugs buzz above my head as I start tying the other end of the string to the ramp railing.
    “David, hi.”
    I drop the flowers and stand up. “Hannah. I didn’t hear you coming.” I wipe my sweaty hands on my almost-dry trunks. “But you’re here at just the right time to help me with this.”
    Hannah shoves her hair behind her ears. I never knew ears could be…I don’t know…nice. She takes hold of the heavy stalks while I crouch down to tie the string.
    “These blue flowers look great with the yellow daisies,” she says. “Like sapphires and topazes all mixed together when the sun hits them.”
    It’s neat that she noticed. That she sees it that way. But I hope she doesn’t notice what she’s doing to me, standing so close.
    “It was kind of a happy accident,” I tell her. “Nothing was blooming when I moved this coreopsis here. I just knew I needed something to fill a bare patch after a shrub died over the winter.”
    Still holding the stalks, Hannah says, “I saw you working out here so I came over to ask what time I should be ready tomorrow.”
    “I don’t know. Nine? Ten?”
    If we go. With Hannah coming with us, for five whole days, we have to go.
    “Great.” She smiles, and I almost drop the string.
    Once the delphiniums are properly upright against the ramp, Hannah heads home and I head to the back yard. My parents are talking quietly on the patio, looking like they’d rather not be interrupted.
    Slipping away, I hear Mom say, “No, Stephen, absolutely not. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. I will not send our daughter to live in a group home. Her home is here, with us.”
    Wow. I’ve had moments of wishing Ivy out of my life. Sure. But to actually send her away? To live with strangers? Not that anyone’s asking me what I think, but that’s just nuts.

Chapter 7
    When I cross the street to tell Hannah we’re just about ready to leave for the cottage, Shamus again greets me with his stuffed monkey hanging from his mouth. From upstairs Hannah calls down to me, “Come on in. I haven’t quite finished packing.”
    I go in, give Shamus a pat, and call back, “Don’t forget your bathing suit.” I just mean so she can swim. I hope she doesn’t think I meant so I can see her in it.
    For the first part of the trip, Hannah and I take turns playing on my Gameboy, an old one I picked up at a consignment shop. Strapped into the van’s middle seat, between us and my parents, Ivy squawks and burbles. We stop for lunch on the way up, a packed picnic because of how hard it is with Ivy in a restaurant. Then we drive on for another hour.
    The closer we get, the more nervous I get. I mean, Hannah’s only coming to our cottage because her mom knew my mom, but still…
    Hannah says to me, “It’s far, isn’t it.”
    We turn off the paved country road onto a gravel one.
    “Yeah, but we’re almost there now. Another ten minutes.”
    Passing the acres of dunes that separate the road from the lake just before we get to our place, I tell her, “It was right about here that Livingston always started whining to get out of the car. He loved it here.”
    By the time I’ve explained who Livingston was, we’ve made it down the long, narrow laneway that passes through a wooded area and leads to our cottage. Overlooking the water, it’s a small prefab that Dad inherited from his parents. The only work he’s done on it, or had someone else do, is building a makeshift ramp and widening the inside doorways. It’s pretty rustic.
    Mom puts Ivy down for a nap while the rest of us unpack the van. When the groceries are all put away and suitcases are unpacked in the bedrooms, Hannah stretches out with a magazine in the