Forever by Judy Blume Read Free Book Online Page B

and sat down on the
     edge of my bed, like he used to do when I was little. He took my hand.
    â€œI’m glad you decided I could go to Vermont, Dad.”
    â€œWell . . . you’ll be off
     to college in the fall . . . I have to let you go sooner or
     later . . . I guess you’re not a little girl anymore.”
    â€œI guess not.”
    â€œYou have a lot of common sense, Kath. You’ve always made
     intelligent decisions . . . still, you and Michael are very
     young.”
    â€œWe’re not planning to elope, if that’s what
     you’re worried about.”
    â€œI’m not worried. I just don’t want to see you get
     hurt.”
    â€œI told you, I’ll be careful.”
    â€œNot that kind of hurt, Kath.”
    â€œOh Dad . . .”
    â€œI like Michael . . . and it’s not that I
     don’t trust him . . .”
    â€œDaddy . . . he’s not a sex
     fiend . . . so please stop worrying about us.”
    â€œI can’t help it.”
    I sat up and hugged him. “Everything’s going to be fine . . .
     really.”

8
    As soon as we got to the ski house Michael jumped out of the car and
     bombarded me with snowballs. There was beautiful fresh snow everywhere and miles and
     miles of woods, with icicles hanging from every tree. I ran from him, half-laughing and
     half-screaming, but he didn’t listen until Ike grabbed him by the arm and said,
     “Work now . . . play later.” He led Michael back to the car,
     opened the trunk and pointed to all the stuff that had to be lugged inside.
    I helped Sharon unpack the groceries. She was tall and thin, like Michael,
     with the same color hair, but the shape of her eyes made her look like she was
     squinting, even when she wasn’t. Ike was shorter than Sharon but very broad, with
     practically no neck. He had a bald spot on the top of his head. I wondered if it will
     grow until he’s totally bald and if it does, will Sharon care? How would I feel if
     Michael was bald? I’m not sure. I love his hair—the color, the way it feels,
     the smell of it. I’d be disappointed if it all fell out.
    After everything was put away in the kitchen I
     explored the house. There was one big room with a gray stone fireplace, a beat-up shaggy
     rug, and a bunch of pillows scattered on the floor. The kitchen opened right into it.
     Then there was Ike and Sharon’s bedroom. They had a private bath. Upstairs there
     were two more bedrooms, connected by another bathroom, which meant Michael and I would
     be sharing. I was glad I’d been honest with him when he picked me up that
     afternoon. I’d led him into the kitchen while my mother was talking to Sharon and
     Ike in the living room.
    â€œI have something to tell you,” I said.
    â€œGo ahead.”
    â€œI got my period this morning.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œA week early.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œMy mother says it probably happened because I was so
     excited . . . about going away and all . . . I just
     thought you should know.”
    â€œYou’re right.”
    â€œIn case I have to make stops on the drive up . . .”
    â€œYou don’t feel sick or anything, do you?”
    â€œNo, I’m fine . . . just
     disappointed . . . I hope you’re not.”
    â€œHell, no . . . why should I be disappointed as long
     as you can still come with us,” he’d said, taking my hand.

    When Michael and Ike had finished unloading the car
     and we were all unpacked, the four of us sat around the fire, sipping mugs of steaming
     coffee laced with brandy. Sharon told me all about her job. She’s an
     anthropologist, working for the Museum of Natural History, but she hopes to go on a
     field trip soon, maybe this summer. When I heard that I asked her if she’d be