Flying by Carrie Jones Read Free Book Online

leg with his hand. I resist the urge to sink my fingers into his hair and stroke his head like he’s some kind of puppy dog. Wow, there is something wrong with me. Maybe I’m in shock?
    â€œYou want to tell me what happened?” he asks, calm again, normal Lyle.
    â€œYou would not believe it.” I stagger away and sit on the bench.
    â€œTry me.”
    I would tell him, but I think I actually am in shock. And how could he possibly believe me? I don’t even know if I believe me. “There are blood spots on my shoe. There is a gash in the side of my calf. I don’t even know how I got it. Oh, my God. I sound so pouty. Plus, I’m covered in baby powder!”
    Lyle throws me his most intense facial expression, which I think he has modeled after one of the guys on Game of Thrones . “What happened to Dakota?”
    I throw my hands up in the air. “I’m not sure.”
    â€œMana…” He gives me this look, this absolute Lyle look that’s a cross between a boy you lust after smiling at you and your grandfather telling you that in his day people didn’t evade the truth. “Did he hurt you? I will kill him if he hurt you. You can tell me. We can go get Deputy Bagley right now.”
    â€œNo! Why would you even think that?”
    â€œYou’re bleeding, and there are obvious signs of a fight.” His voice softens. He is so calm and stable, so forward moving. “Please tell me.”
    My voice comes out tiny and weak. “You won’t believe me.”
    â€œTry me.” He pushes the paper towels back on my leg, which is now starting to hurt. “I mean, something obviously happened. Lockers are everywhere, there’s a hole in the ceiling, you’re all cut up … Seppie’s pepper spray is on the floor. And I swear I heard yelling.”
    â€œWe should pick that up.” I motion to the mess.
    â€œYou’re changing the subject—”
    â€œI know, but—”
    â€œAnd you’re shaking.” He waits. He gently wipes at my leg. “You might need stitches.”
    â€œI do not need stitches.” My voice softens. He is helping me. He does this to animals at the wildlife refuge, too, for his summer job, so I shouldn’t think too much of this, right? It’s just his nature to care. He probably feels the same way for me as he does for an injured moose.
    â€œYou’re just afraid of hospitals.”
    â€œI am not afraid of hospitals.” I quake though, even as I say it. Most of my nightmares involve hospital-type rooms with creepy, big-eyed doctors.
    â€œRight. Like the time you broke your ankle when you missed the mat, learning your back tucks, and we had to pry your fingers off because you were hanging on to the edge of the car door, and then you still wouldn’t go and we had to carry you into the emergency room and you kicked me.”
    I glare at the floor. Sometimes having best friends stinks because, well, they just know too much. “That was seventh grade. I cannot be responsible for events that occurred before puberty.”
    Lyle’s hand with the paper towels eases the dirt away from my leg while his other hand maintains pressure. “Okay. No hospitals if you tell me what’s going on.”
    My eyes meet his eyes. “Fine.”
    Outside, the basketball teams smash through the corridor back to the courts. I haul in a breath and say, “They disappeared. There was this fight. Before that, Dakota was tied up. Sunglasses Guy didn’t want me to get the pepper spray. Then I let Dakota free, which was stupid, I now realize, because Dakota had this weird tongue thing and it sprayed acid. He pretty much knocked down all the lockers while I ran on top. And, oh, the most awesome thing of all of this was I was doing these ridiculous gymnastics moves. They were amazing and the sunglasses guy made me throw his cell phone at him, and when I did, they both just