Would You Read Online Free

twenty or thirty girls whose last wishes include having sex with Carson Jefferson?” I ask him. “Where are you going to find
one?”
    “Oh, I'd find them.”
    “You need a taste of reality, Carson.”
    “I love reality! Especially when it's on TV.”
    “And then let's say your source is proved wrong,” says Zack. “It was all a hoax and the world is not going to end. Then what would you do?”
    “Go straight to the doctor.”
    “I'd be glad I told people what I think of them,” says Audrey. “Anyone who can't take the truth shouldn't be using up oxygen on my planet.”
    “Well, aren't we supposed to do that anyway?” says Leila. “Live every day as if it's our last? You know, fully?”
    “Fear of public speaking and fear of getting fat are way above fear of death in opinion polls,” says Zack. “Fear of deformed people and fear of making mistakes are also up there.”
    “And that is relevant because?” says Audrey.
    “Depends on how you're going to die,” I say.
    This inspires Carson. “Would you rather be attacked by a huge genetically engineered plus environmental-fiasco spider
or
be up against a ruthless, brilliant assassin who was under orders to take you dead or alive?”
    Audrey groans. “I
hate
movies where there's a blob for an enemy—there's no challenge, no psychology. With a human being there's always a chance you might just—”
    “Oh that's so typical of a girl,” says Carson. “You think you could just use sex to save your life.”
    “Oh that's so typical of a boy,” says Audrey. “You represent the decades of sexist pigs who've created the cultural stereotype of an imprisoned woman bargaining with hercharms to save her life, and then you turn around and act like there's something wrong with it. Like you wouldn't let someone out of jail for a blow job?”
    “Uh, gee, Audrey, now that you mention it…”
    We push him to the ground and throw gravel all over his perfect white T-shirt.
Police Activity
    We manage to kill a couple of hours, just riding around rearranging people's porch furniture. We're coming home cheerful and we pass Devon Road. A cruiser is parked sideways across the end of the street. There are lights and extra cops and one of those yellow plastic ribbons being stretched around pylons.
    “Good,” says Audrey. “Keep the officers busy while the teenage delinquents wreak mayhem all over town.”
    “Havoc, Audrey. Wreak havoc.”
    We split up at the corner and I head for home.
The Phone Call
    My cell is ringing as I turn onto our block. I pull it out of my back pocket but it's only HOME, so I don't answer. I'm nearly there anyway.
    I put my bike in the garage and pull down the rusting,rattling door. The kitchen light is on. Actually, every light in the house seems to be on. Bit late for them, isn't it?
    My cell rings again. I go in the back door with it still ringing. Dad's at the wall phone and Mom is at the table with her head in her hands. One look and I feel thunder in my brain. There's something really wrong.
How the World Turns in a Heartbeat
    I look at them and they look at me. Dad hangs up the phone and my cell stops ringing. He half smiles but then shrugs and his face scrunches up like someone poked him in the eye.
    “What?” I say.
    “It's Claire,” he whispers.
    “Claire,” says Mom. She scrapes the chair back and stumbles up. Her eyes look wild, extra blue. She opens her arms and I walk into them.
    “Claire what?”
    I pull out of the hug and Mom slumps back down on the chair with her face hidden in her hands.
    “There's been an accident,” says Dad.
    “Oh,” I say, “we might have passed it. On Devon Road?”
    “They didn't say where,” says Dad.
    “What? You mean Claire?”
    “Claire has been hit by a car.”
    There's not enough air for a second.
    “Is she … is she alive?”
    “She's very seriously injured,” says Dad. “They say. We were trying to reach you before we go to the hospital.”
    “We should go now.” Mom jumps up.