Dead Ends by Erin Jade Lange Read Free Book Online Page A

about strength. It’s about form.” I tried tosound like I knew what I was talking about. No one ever taught me to fight. I always just followed the itch.
    I sank down on the ground next to where he sat pouting on the slide. “This isn’t going to work.”
    His face fell. “But you said—”
    â€œI know, but what can I say? I can’t teach you.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    I threw up my hands in frustration. “Because I’m no Mr. Miyagi, and you are
definitely
not the Karate Kid.”
    â€œThe what?”
    â€œDon’t tell me you haven’t seen that movie.”
    â€œWhat’s it about?”
    â€œIt’s this oldie from, like, the eighties. It’s all about a shrimpy dude who becomes the greatest fighter who ever lived, basically.”
    â€œLike me.” Billy grinned.
    â€œNo, man,
not
like you. That’s the point.”
    â€œIt’s only the first day,” Billy protested. “Don’t worry. You’ll get better at teaching me.”
    I gaped at him, speechless. Yes, obviously, I was the one sucking it up here and not the kid who couldn’t hit a target if his life depended on it.
    While I sat there stunned and half admiring the kid’s confidence, he dragged his backpack over to the sandbox and pulled out his atlas. He sat on one of the cracked wooden railroad ties framing the sand with his legs crossed, the heavy book open in his lap.
    I tried to sit back and enjoy the temporary silence, but the longer Billy searched the pages, the more I wanted to knowwhat the hell was so interesting about a bunch of maps. I moved to sit next to him on the railroad tie. “What’re you looking for in there?”
    Billy didn’t look up. “My dad.”
    I shot him a sideways glance.
    â€œStrange place to be looking for a dad,” I said. “Unless he’s a paper doll, I don’t think you’re gonna find—”
    Billy stabbed one of the pages with a stubby finger. “Truth or Consequences!”
    I pulled back at the volume in his voice. “Dude, don’t get all heavy on me. I was just making conversation.”
    â€œNo, look. Truth or Consequences.”
    He moved his fingers, and I saw the words printed there in the dent he’d made on the map of New Mexico.
    â€œThat’s the name of a town?” I asked.
    â€œYep. That’s an easy one, because it’s on the map.” He thumbed through the soft, worn pages of the atlas. “But there’s lots of towns with funny names that aren’t on the maps.”
    â€œYeah, but what’s that got to do with—”
    â€œSee.” He let the pages fall open. “In Oregon, where I used to live, there’s a place called Boring. But it’s not in the atlas, so I had to write it down.”
    â€œBut, Billy—”
    â€œAnd there used to be a town called Idiotville.” He laughed as his fingers traced a line from the handwritten
Boring
to a dark scribble where he’d crossed out
Idiotville.
“But it’s not there anymore. And there’s lots of Borings. There’s one in Maryland and Tennessee and—”
    â€œBilly D.!” I had to shout it to get his attention.
    He lifted his eyes from the atlas like he was coming out of a daze, and I made the universal symbol for “time-out” with my arms.
    â€œThat’s all cool, man, but you said you were looking for your dad.”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œYeah, I’m not getting it.”
    Billy spread a chubby hand across the map, smoothing out the page.
    â€œMy dad told me all the names of the towns. He made lists, and I’d find which state they were in and where to put them on the map.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd he’s in one of them. I just don’t know which one.”
    I studied Billy’s face, but his expression was far away, lost in Hooker, Oklahoma, or some other place.
    â€œWhen’s the last time