All Unquiet Things by Anna Jarzab Read Free Book Online Page A

I didn’t feel like it. The thing was, I didn’t feel like much of anything. Even wasting my time watching television didn’t seem remotely appealing. I lay on the couch, draining can after can of Red Bull, listening to cars peel out on the street and neighbors arguing on their front lawns.
    The couch also offered an excellent vantage point from which to look out the window and observe the comings and goings of the neighborhood, something I took advantage of. For about an hour I stared out at a car parked across the street. It was a nice car, a BMW, painted an understated shade of dark blue—not the sort of vehicle I often saw pull up within twenty blocks of my driveway. And as the light shifted, I began to notice something moving, a shadow—there was someone in the car. And they had been sitting there for a while. I thought back to earlier, when I arrived home. Had I seen the car then? Or did it appear later?
    It took me a while, but eventually, after dredging through my memory bank, I recognized the vehicle. I was unsure ofwhat to do next. I didn’t want to be paranoid, but wasn’t there something illegal about following a person home from school and sitting outside their house for hours at a time with no clear and upright motive for doing so? I was certain I could make a case for it somehow. So I went to the kitchen, picked up the phone, and reported Audrey’s car to the police.

C HAPTER F IVE
    M y mother still insisted on driving me to school, even though I had told her over and over again that I was fine. I was early, which often happened when I got a ride, so I went to the library as usual. I expected to see Audrey sitting in Carly’s old seat again, but she wasn’t there. I was relieved, but also a little disappointed. I had provoked her, and I was looking forward to seeing what she would do next.
    Before class I got ahold of Harvey and copied his homework. Harvey normally didn’t care that I kept things close to the vest, but he was still human. He did sometimes betray a casual interest.
    “I called your cell this morning but it went straight to voice mail.”
    “You did?”
    “Yeah. I was on my way to Starbucks and wanted to check in, see if you wanted something.”
    “Sorry. I didn’t even hear it ring.” I didn’t remember putting my cell in one of my pockets, but I patted them down anyway just to make sure. I figured I must have left it in my backpack.
    “No problem. You were probably on the other line with 1-800-HOT-GIRLS or something.”
    I smiled and shrugged. “I can never get Natasha to shut up. I keep telling her I’ve got to go to school, but she won’t let me off.”
    “Imaginary girlfriends are such a drag.”
    He grinned and held up a sketch he’d been working on of Phyllis, our physics instructor, complete with horns and a tail. “Nice, huh?”
    “Perfect likeness. Except that you forgot the fangs.”

    In AP physics, just as we were sitting down to a chapter on vectors, a slip came for me via the office aide. This time it was yellow, which meant that I had been summoned to the principal’s office, to see Finch.
    Back when Finch was only the vice principal, he spent most of his time devising a scheme to oust Dr. Darling, his predecessor, whose outward hostility and indifference toward all students made it abundantly clear that he had no intention of living up to the tender disposition that his name suggested.I never officially met Darling, but many of my earliest Brighton memories are shadowed by Finch’s presence. Eventually, Darling retired, and there I was, heading to meet with Finch in the principal’s office, just as he’d always dreamed.
    I handed my slip to the receptionist, who barely looked up from her computer screen. “He’s waiting for you,” she said. “Just a heads-up, he doesn’t look happy.”
    “What’s new?”
    I barreled into Finch’s office unannounced and planted myself in front of his desk. “If this is about my grades, I remember our