Boundless by Cynthia Hand Read Free Book Online Page A

nine-to-five job, get married, buy a house, get a dog, bang out a couple of kids—what would our kids be, anyway, thirty-seven-and-a-half percent angel-blood? Think there’s a Latin term for that?—and then I’d have the Angel-American dream and live happily ever after?”
    “If that’s what you want.”
    “It isn’t what I want,” he says. “That’s what humans do, Clara. And I’m not one.”
    I struggle to keep my voice neutral. “Yes, you are.”
    “I’m only a fourth human.” He looks up at me like he’s gazing into me, inspecting my humanness, too. “That’s a pretty small piece of the pie. Why should it define me?”
    I cross my arms over my chest, shiver even though it’s not cold. “Jeffrey,” I say quietly. “We can’t just run away from our problems.”
    He flinches, then pushes past me for the door. “It was a mistake coming here,” he mutters, and I wonder, Why did he come here? Why did he want to see me?
    “Wait.” I start after him, catch his arm.
    “Let go, Clara. I’m done playing games. I’m done with all of it. I’m not going to have anyone else tell me what to do, ever again. I’m going to do what I want.”
    “I’m sorry!” I stop, take a breath. “I’m sorry,” I try again, more quietly. “You’re right. It’s not my place to boss you around. I’m not—”
    Mom, I think, but the word doesn’t come out. I let go of his arm and take a couple steps back. “I’m sorry,” I say again.
    He looks at me hard for a minute like he’s deciding how much to tell me.
    “Mom knew,” he says finally. “She knew that I was going to run away.”
    I stare at him. “How?”
    He scoffs. “She said a little bird told her.”
    It sounds exactly like something Mom would say. “She was kind of infuriating, wasn’t she?”
    “Yeah. A real know-it-all.” He smiles the raw-hurt kind of smile. It breaks my heart.
    “Jeffrey—” I want to tell him about heaven then, about seeing Mom, but he doesn’t let me.
    “The point is, she knew,” he says. “She even kind of prepared me for it.”
    “But maybe I could—”
    “No. I don’t need you messing up my life right now.” He looks embarrassed, like he just caught on to how rude he sounds. “I mean, I have to make it on my own, Clara. All right? But I’m okay. That’s what I came to tell you. You don’t have to worry. I’m fine.”
    “Okay,” I murmur, my voice suddenly thick. I clear my throat, get a hold of myself. “Jeffrey—”
    “I’ve got to get back,” he says.
    I nod like it totally makes sense that he would have somewhere he needs to be at five in the morning. “Do you need money?”
    “No,” he says, but he waits while I sprint up to my room to get my wallet, and he takes some when I give it to him.
    “If you need anything, call me,” I order him. “I mean it. Call me.”
    “Why, so you can boss me around?” he says, but he sounds good-natured about it.
    I walk him to the front door. It’s chilly outside. I worry that he’s not wearing a coat. I worry that the forty-two dollars I gave him won’t be enough to keep him safe and fed. I worry that I’ll never see him again.
    “Now’s when you let go of my arm,” he says.
    I make my fingers release.
    “Jeffrey, wait,” I say as he starts to walk away.
    He doesn’t stop walking, doesn’t turn back. “I’ll call you, Clara.”
    “You’d better,” I yell after him.
    He rounds the corner of the building. I wait for all of three seconds before I run after him, but when I get there, he’s gone.
    That stupid crow is hanging out at my happiness class, perched on a branch right outside the window, watching me. I’m supposed to be meditating right now, which means I have to sit and look like I’m chilling with the sixty or so students who are spread out in various meditative positions on the floor, letting go of all my worldly thoughts and whatnot, which I can’t do because if I did I’d start glowing like a tanning bed. I’m supposed