The Locker by Richie Tankersley Cusick Read Free Book Online

is for me when I start a new school.”
    â€œHmmm.” Aunt Celia redirected her gaze onto the floor, and her lips pressed into a thin line—a sure sign she was thinking really hard before she said something. At last she added, “You looked so strange this morning.”
    â€œI look like I always do!” My voice rose defensively. “If that means I look strange, I can’t help it if that’s the way I look.”
    I knew I was sounding childish, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
    â€œMaybe we should have a discussion,” Aunt Celia began helpfully, but I jumped off the bed and pushed past Dobkin out into the hallway.
    â€œI’m going to take a walk,” I announced.
    Aunt Celia jumped up after me and nodded with forced brightness. “What a great idea! Fresh air will do you good.”
    â€œCoward,” Dobkin mumbled, but I ignored him and ran down the stairs and out the front door.
    For several minutes I just stood there on the porch, waiting for my heart to settle down into my chest again. I could smell early flowers and the hint of rain in the air, and the freshness of new leaves just out on the trees. I leaned for a while on the porch rail, but then, as I straightened up again and glanced at the house next door, I realized someone was sitting over there in the porch swing.
    â€œHi,” said the voice, and I caught my breath in surprise.
    â€œTyler?” I asked cautiously.
    â€œYeah.”
    He sprang into full view and draped his body lazily over the front railing. I could see he wasn’t wearing his coat now—just jeans and a black sweatshirt with holes in it—but the cap was still turned around on his head and his hightops had come unlaced. As I watched, he pulled off the cap, shook his hair out of his eyes, then smashed the cap down onto his head again, lopsided.
    â€œHi,” he said again quietly. “You look surprised.”
    â€œShouldn’t I be?” My tone was accusing. “What are you doing?”
    â€œI live here.”
    â€œYou do?” I must have sounded shocked, because there was the slightest touch of laughter in his voice.
    â€œYeah. I do.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me?”
    â€œWhy didn’t you ask?”
    â€œWell, I usually don’t go into a new school asking every kid I meet, hey, do you live next door to me?” I was sort of embarrassed, like he’d played a trick on me. “I didn’t see you around this weekend.”
    â€œI wasn’t here,” he said, not offering to tell me where he’d been. “I just got back late last night.”
    â€œOh.” I didn’t know what else to say. Tyler hopped lightly up onto the railing, his arms straight out at his sides, as if walking a tightrope.
    â€œYou as crazy as old lady Turley?” he asked casually.
    â€œI might be,” I said.
    â€œJust wondering.” Again that hint of laughter in his voice, though he kept his face expressionless. I watched him and thought how jealous I was again of his perfect skin and those perfect eyelashes and that perfectly formed mouth.
    â€œYou’re thinking … you’ve seen me in some other lifetime,” he said, and I snapped back to awareness.
    â€œI’m not thinking anything about you,” I lied.
    â€œThat’s why you keep looking at my face. Am I familiar to you? Did we meet in some other dimension? Were we friends or maybe lovers?”
    â€œI wasn’t looking at your face.”
    â€œYes, you were.” He hopped off the railing and landed at the very bottom of the porch steps. He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leaned lazily against one wooden column of the porch.
    â€œSo how’s it feel living in the museum?”
    I almost laughed at that. “Like a museum.”
    â€œMaybe you should sell tickets and take tours through.”
    â€œMaybe. I could use the spending money.”
    â€œSo how was