Chill by Colin Frizzell Read Free Book Online

how long do you have to go to school to become a nurse?”
    â€œYou’re thinking of becoming a nurse?” Dad asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” I said.
    â€œI thought you wanted to be a writer,” said Mom.
    â€œIt’s not very realistic is it?” I told them.
    â€œWho says?” Dad asked.
    â€œEverybody,” I said. “Including you.”
    â€œWhen did either of us say that?” Mom asked defensively.
    â€œYou said it’d be hard.”
    â€œHard,” Mom said. “Not impossible.”
    â€œYou never really encouraged it though, did you?” I said.
    â€œWe read your stuff all the time when you were younger,” Dad reminded me.
    â€œBut you haven’t recently,” I replied.
    â€œYou haven’t shown us anything recently,” Mom said.
    That was true.
    â€œHow are we supposed to show an interest if you never share anything with us?” Mom continued.
    I wasn’t sure how to answer. I was confused, to say the least.
    â€œWell,” I started slowly, “I wrote a book.”
    â€œA whole book?” Mom said. She seemed surprised and even proud.
    I looked at Dad. He had the same expression as Mom.
    â€œWhere is it?” he asked.
    â€œI threw it away,” I told them.
    â€œWhat? Why would you do that?” Mom inquired.
    â€œI don’t know,” I said. At that moment I didn’t know.
    â€œDidn’t you save it to your computer?” Dad asked.
    â€œI deleted it.”
    â€œWell that wasn’t very smart,” Dad said.
    â€œCalling him stupid isn’t going to encourage him, dear,” Mom said.
    â€œI didn’t say he was stupid. I said his actions were. And sometimes smart people can do dumb things.”
    I wouldn’t have called myself a smart person at that moment, but I’d definitely have said that I did some
really
dumb things.
    How would I ever make it up to Chill?

Chapter Fifteen
    The next morning I received an e-mail from Chill before I went to school. He said that he had read my story and thought it was great. Attached was my manuscript, which he’d fished out of the garbage and scanned into the computer.
    It should have made me feel better because it showed me not just that I had support, but that I’d been forgiven. But it made me feel worse.
    It showed me just how great a friendship I’d turned my back on. It made me feel more foolish.
    I printed off the manuscript and gave it to my parents. They seemed genuinely excited about reading it. I guess you could say that I was wrong about pretty much everything.
    When I arrived at school, everyone was gathering in the foyer for the grand unveiling. We were supposed to go to our homeroom classes first and all go down together, but the last day is always chaos. Everyone knows you have to do something major to get in trouble.
    As promised, Chill’s mom was there— with a camera crew—looking as beautiful as ever. She smiled and waved. I smiled and waved back, but I still felt too guilty about Chill to enjoy it.
    Chill was standing by Ms. Surette, holding the rope they’d hooked up to drop the tarp that covered the mural.
    Behind them were the teachers, who also hadn’t bothered to go to their homerooms.In the center stood Mr. Sfinkter, telling his stories. I noticed that this time not all the teachers were listening to him. Some stood apart, whispering to one another, often looking at Mr. Sfinkter as they did.
    Chill waved me over, but I shook my head. This was his moment and I had contributed so little that I didn’t want to be a part of it.
    He moved toward me, but the bell rang. Ms. Surette grabbed his shoulder.
    The principal took his place at the center of the curtain and got everyone’s attention.
    â€œI’d like to thank everybody for coming out this morning, particularly the members of the community, our local news station and our lovely local anchor, the mother of our featured