Cherry Red Summer (Emely and Elyas Book 1) by Carina Bartsch Read Free Book Online Page A

be? I definitely didn’t know anyone named Luca. It wasn’t a common name, so I would have remembered meeting a guy named Luca.
    What do you have to lose? Alex’s words echoed through my mind.
    I sighed, because I didn’t have anything to lose. What if he was sitting at home in front of his computer waiting for me to answer?
    I put my elbows on my desk and rested my chin in my hands. Should I? I mean, it was just an e-mail. What could happen? If his response left anything to be desired, it’s not like I hadto keep writing him. So, should I?
    I decided to just write out what came to mind—even though I felt silly doing it.
    Hi Luca,
    Honestly, I wasn’t planning on answering your e-mail, and for the life of me I can’t explain why I’m responding. Blame it on temporary insanity.
    In case you have any sociopathic tendencies or other inclinations I should know about, now is the right time to mention them.
    So my first question is, where do you know me from? Are you in one of my classes? Would I recognize you?
    Thanks,
          Emely
    P.S. A criminal background check would go a long way toward bolstering my trust in you.
    I hesitated for a while, but hit “Send,” and the e-mail went on its way. Then I put my face in my hands, realizing I must be a lost cause and even more pathetic than I had thought. Too late, though. I couldn’t take it back now.
    I moaned, flipped my laptop shut, and stood up from my desk chair, plagued by mixed feelings as I got ready for work.
    I wouldn’t find out what—or if—he would answer until I got home after my shift.

C HAPTER 4
    A W ALK IN THE P ARK
    A lex stood in front of the stove in her huge kitchen, dicing vegetables, which she then put into a pan. She looked up from her work and glanced over her shoulder at me. “Any news from that Luca guy? Did he e-mail you back?”
    I sat on the kitchen island next to her, with my legs dangling over the side, and stole a cube of carrot from the pan. Alex was probably the worst cook on earth, but it never stopped her from cooking.
    “Hey!” she cried, trying to swat my fingers away, but I had already withdrawn them to safety.
    “After you salt the veggies to death, they won’t be edible anymore. I’m on a mercy mission.” I gave her an imploring look as I tried to pilfer another chunk of carrot, but received only an angry glare in return.
    “Fine, I’ll stop,” she said setting down the knife. I rolled my eyes but put my hands back in my lap. She nodded in acknowledgment and returned to her vegetables.
    “We’ve been exchanging e-mails,” I said, coming back to her question.
    “Have you figured out yet who it could be?”
    “No,” I said. “Absolutely no idea.”
    “Do you at least know where he knows you from?”
    “All I know is that he’s twenty-four and goes to a different university. Apparently he hangs out once in a while with a friend of his who I know, and that’s how he’s run into me a few times. His friend goes to this school, so the friend figured out my name and e-mail for him.” I shrugged.
    “You’ve known all this for how long and didn’t tell me?” She jammed her knife, tip first, into the wood cutting board. Patience may be a virtue, but it was definitely not one of Alex’s. In her world, withholding information bordered on a felony.
    “There’s not much to tell.” I sighed. “I hardly know anything about him.”
    “But you think he’s OK?” She raised an eyebrow with a conspiratorial grin.
    I hesitated until my mouth took on a life of its own and formed a smile that I would have preferred to keep to myself. “Let’s just say he seems to be really nice.”
    “All right. That sounds promising,” she said. “So what do you talk about?”
    “Everything, really.” I blew out a breath. “I mean, we stay pretty general, but we talk about interests, hobbies, music—the usual stuff.”
    “Has he sent you a picture yet?”
    “Wel l . . . ,” I started, looking at the floor. “Not