Strings Attached Read Online Free

hated every day of school, the book made me feel hollow, like I was missing out.
    “I study outside sometimes,” Hank said. “For the privacy.” His hair was light brown and matched his eyes perfectly.
    “Lots of brothers and sisters?” I asked. “No. Just parents.” He shrugged. “That’s enough, sometimes.”
    “So who’s the piano player?” I’d heard the music that morning, through the ceiling over my head.
    He blushed again. “Me, I guess. Is it too loud? I can —”
    “No, it’s nice.”
    There was a pause. I began to feel stupid, standing there in my nightgown and robe. “I go to Stuy. You?”
    It sounded like another language at first —
igotastyu?
    “Stuyvesant High?” he said. “I’m a senior.”
    I was used to people thinking I was older than I was. But my face was scrubbed clean, and I must’ve looked my age. A girl in high school. I was suddenly annoyed at him, at his earnestness, his sneakers, his book.
    “I just moved,” I said. “From Rhode Island. I’m not in high school; I work. And I’ve got things to do, so …”
    “Sure.” Embarrassed, he started back up the ladder, then paused. “With the move and all … do you and your parents … I mean, do you need help with anything?”
    “I don’t need any help,” I said, then shut the window.
    Empty for years,
he’d said. I found myself wondering: IfNate had bought the building as an investment, why hadn’t he rented it out?

     
    He called that night about five minutes after I got home. Almost as if he’d timed how long it would take me to get back from the theater.
    “Did you send the letter?” he asked.
    “You said you wouldn’t call.”
    “Did you send the letter?”
    “You said you wouldn’t call.”
    “We had an agreement.”
    “Exactly. You said you wouldn’t call.”
    The standoff. I leaned against the wall, the receiver against my ear. I couldn’t believe I was talking to an adult like this. I’d only been here a month, but New York had sure taught me not to waste time being polite.
    He let the silence hang there stiffly, frozen clothes on a line. I looked down at the carpet. The pretty carpet that wasn’t mine, that I really didn’t have a right to dig my bare toes into.
    “I haven’t sent it yet,” I said. “It’s not so easy. I can’t find the words.”
    “Tell him you’re here. He’ll have to leave soon, before he’s shipped out. If you don’t mail it now, he won’t come.”
    But I don’t know if I want him to come.
    Inside me lived a million versions of yes — all of them for Billy. Part of me couldn’t refuse him anything. Part of me was scared of him. But all of me loved him.
    I didn’t say yes and I didn’t say no. Quietly, I put down the phone.

     
    It wasn’t until the next week, tired and worn out after the final performance of
That Girl From Scranton!,
that I sat down at the table again, in my stage makeup and robe. It had turned cold again, and I had a blanket wrapped around me. It was one in the morning.
    Dear Billy,
I don’t know what the right thing is. All I know is that it shouldn’t have ended like that. I felt the breath go out of me when I heard that you’d enlisted. I don’t think I’ve breathed since.
    Here’s my news. I left, too. I dropped out of school. (My teachers probably threw a party.) I moved to New York City. It was hard at first, but I actually got a job in a Broadway musical! Now I have a nice apartment on the East Side. I can walk to Times Square or the river. I’m right near the new United Nations headquarters.
    Everything we talked about — I’m living it. I’m still not sure whether talking about it was better.
Love,
Kit
     
    I added my phone number and address, then put my coat on over my nightgown. I walked to the corner and mailed the letter that night, afraid that if I waited, I would tear it up.

Three
     
    Providence, Rhode Island
September 1950
    Jamie didn’t come home that night. Da was furious. He banged on my door and asked