Darkness Before Dawn by Sharon M. Draper Read Free Book Online

Jalani said. “It’s hard to find someone who knows how to treat a lady these days.”
    â€œThat’s ’cause all the dudes we know are just boys!” I said with a laugh. “They need to take lessons from you, Mr. Hathaway,” I teased.
    â€œPlease call me Jonathan,” he said smoothly. “I’m not a real teacher yet. Just think of me as a friend from college—a friend who might like to get to know you better,” he said, looking directly at me.
    He made me feel funny when he looked at me like that. So I just said, “No, I’m not on that right now. I’ve got enough to do with homework and studying for the SAT and getting into college.”
    â€œI’m willing to help you with whatever you’d like,” Jonathan continued, insistent. “I’ve got some SAT preparation study guides you can borrow, and if there’s anything you’d like to know about college life, I’m your man!”
    I looked up at him oddly as we got to my car. “I appreciate your offer, Mr. . . . uh . . . Jonathan, but I’d like to do this myself. You understand how it is, don’t you?”
    â€œOf course,” he said in his smooth, mellow voice. “Just remember that I’m at your service. Any time. Twenty-four/seven.” With that he turned and headed down the street. He did not go back in the direction of the library.
    Me and Jalani got into the car and looked at each other in amazement. Then we cracked up with laughter.
    â€œAt your service. Twenty-four/seven.” I made my voice deep and smooth.
    â€œI’m your man!” Jalani laughed so hard she had to hold her sides.
    â€œWhenever you need a voice made of butter and a line made of maple syrup, just call me!” I could barely breathe I was laughing so hard. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Jalani joined me as we continued to make fun of Jonathan Hathaway.
    I started the car and we giggled about Jonathan Hathaway all the way home. When she got home, Jalani called Rhonda, who called me, who called Jalani again, and the three of us had another good laugh at his expense.
    However, just before I fell asleep, I wondered for a moment how Jonathan just happened to be at the door as we were leaving. And I couldn’t remember if he had gone back into the library after he walked us to the car or not. I shrugged and fluffed my pillow the way I liked it. All thoughts of Jonathan Hathaway passed as fatigue took over and I thankfully cuddled beneath the covers and slept.

5
    October dawned golden, bright, and cool, a pleasant relief from all that heat we’d had in September. I like to watch the leaves fall when the breezes blow, and I love to run. I was on the cross-country team last season, but I didn’t feel like competing this year, so I just practiced with the team to keep in shape. I don’t do meets anymore—I run to please myself. I run for the freedom it gives me, for the release from memories that stab me in the gut, and for the way it makes my body feel strong and tight. Most coaches have told me that I’m a natural, smooth runner—I find energy instead of losing it as I run.
    One cool October afternoon, I was jogging well—just listening to the rhythm of my shoes on the dirt path. It was about five o’clock, and already it was getting dark. I liked to run just a little ahead of most of the girls onthe cross-country team, and a little behind the boys on the team.
    The boys’ cross-country runners had already galloped past me that day, loping easily up the slopes and valleys of the park. Running in groups of two or three, they nodded at me as they ran. They were strong, muscular runners, with long legs and powerful lungs—most of them, at least. I giggled as I thought about B. J. He ran on the team as well. He wasn’t tall and thin like the other runners, but his short legs were strong and he never seemed to tire. He grinned at me, taking time