Release Read online Aly Martinez

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
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Ramsey had been wrong. Five days a week on the bus and at school—we were absolutely stuck together.

And it was, without question, the single best thing that happened to me that year—maybe even ever.

It took a while for me to realize how important Ramsey was to me. Honestly, for about a month, I just thought he found it entertaining to annoy me.

Every day, he asked me if I wanted to get my wheelchair and ride around the neighborhood with him. Or go to the Wynns’ tree. Or go to the gas station and get a pack of gum.

My answer was always no.

His response as I snatched my backpack and slammed my front door in his face was always, “Aw, man, come on, Thea. Don’t be so lame.”

He never let the rejection dissuade him. The very next day, he’d be back at it again. He’d laugh and try to chat with me in class, introducing me as Sparrow to people he’d just met but I’d known my entire freaking life. I hated the nickname, but I was too numb to do anything about it.

Most of the time, I ignored him altogether, pretending that a ghost was carrying my book bag instead of the school’s new heartthrob. I never said thank you or upheld my end of the bargain of showing him around school, but he didn’t seem to care.

He also didn’t seem to care that pretty much everyone in class hated the miserable Thea Hull. The few people I’d hung out with or played with during recess in the past wanted nothing to do with me. It wasn’t like I was a lot of fun anymore. I honestly wouldn’t have blamed Ramsey if he’d hated me too. God knew I hated myself.

My dad was still a zombie who worked long hours. I suspected that it was in an attempt to steer clear of my mom’s memories as much as possible, but it was hard not to take it personally.

On good days, I took a bath and wore clean clothes to school, stared into space during class and didn’t get caught. I’d come home, eat whatever microwave dinner my dad had bought that week, and spend the rest of my night watching TV until I passed out on the couch.

On bad days, I wore the same clothes from the day before, got sent to the counselor’s office for not paying attention, came home, locked myself in my room, and stared at the ceiling until sleep devoured me.

My grades crashed, and despite three requests from Mrs. Young for a parent-teacher conference, my father never replied.

I was relieved he didn’t care about my grades.

I was heartbroken he didn’t care about me.

But through it all—the bad, the worse, and the sometimes stinky—Ramsey was always there. Why, I had no idea. But for a girl who essentially lived alone in a house she shared with her father, there was the biggest gift of all.

“So then, Josh, was all like, ‘Watch this,’ and kicked the dog in the stomach.” Ramsey let out a loud laugh and dropped his head against the back of the bus seat.

My mouth gaped open. “Why are you laughing? That isn’t even close to funny, you idiot.”

“Then you obviously didn’t see Josh’s face when the dog whipped around and bit the crap out of his leg. It was like one of those cop shows where the dog latches on and starts shaking back and forth.” He chomped his teeth, pretending he was going to bite my shoulder.

I put a palm in his face and shoved his head away. “Good. Josh deserved it.”

“I thought his mom was going to have a heart attack. She came flying out of the car, screaming about rabies and begging for someone to call nine-one-one knowing good and dang well she was the only one who had a cell phone. I’m telling you what, rich people are crazy. My leg would have to fall off before my dad would call an ambulance.”

The bus doors opened as we arrived at our stop. We waited for all the other kids to get off before I started the production of getting to my feet. Ramsey got off the bus first, but he stood at the bottom, waiting for me. Like pretty much everything else in our relationship, I’d found this habit extremely obnoxious. Until a few days earlier, when I’d fallen. He’d caught me before I’d face planted on the road and it had taken every bit of the manners my mother had taught me to mutter a quiet thank-you.

You should have seen the smile on that boy’s face.

I knew Ramsey. With as much as he talked, it was hard not to. But with two reluctant and mundane words of gratitude, it was as though I’d offered him a brick of gold. It was sad.


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