How Not to Spend Your Senior Year by Cameron Dokey Read Free Book Online Page A

that. Whiners are my very biggest pet peeve. It was kind of depressing to discover that, under pressure, I might turn out to be one.
    â€œIt’s because of something that happened a long time ago,” my father said. Then he hesitated for a moment, as if trying to figure out the way to explain. To go on. That was the moment I decided to redeem myself for almost whining. In a funny sort of way, I suppose you could say it was the moment I grew up. Or at least, I started.
    â€œRemember those bedtime stories you used to tell me? The ones you made up yourself?”
    â€œSure,” my dad said, his face showing his surprise. He studied mine for a moment. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I gotcha, Jo-Jo.”
    He set Mom’s picture beside him, on the far side. I scooted close to him again, and put my head back down on his shoulder.
    â€œOnce upon a time,” my father began, “there was a man who had a daughterwhom he loved very much. Life for the man was good, and he thought it would go on and on, just as it was. Then, one day, the man saw something he wasn’t supposed to see. A thing that changed everything.
    â€œHe saw somebody die.”
    My head gave an involuntary jerk, popping up off my father’s shoulder. Dad eased it back down again, smoothing my hair the way he’d done when I was a child.
    â€œPeople die every day, for perfectly ordinary reasons,” I ventured.
    â€œTrue,” acknowledged my father. “But there was nothing ordinary about what this man saw. The truth is, he witnessed a murder. Not only that, he saw the killer’s face. A thing that turned out to be incredibly important. He was now almost the only person in the entire country who knew what this particular bad guy looked like.
    â€œBut the killer was clever. He got away. He was powerful and had many friends to help him. The police worried for the safety of the man and his daughter. So, together, they came up with a plan. The man and his daughter would move from place to place. That way, they couldstay one step ahead of anyone trying to track them down.”
    â€œYou mean they went on the run,” I said. “Just like the killer did.”
    â€œI suppose you could say that,” said my father after a moment. “Years went by, many more years than the man had ever imagined he would spend in that way. He stayed in touch with the police as he and his daughter moved from town to town.
    â€œThen, one day, the man received a phone call. It was from the very same detective who had handled the case all those years ago. The detective told him the killer had been apprehended. At long last he would be tried for the murder, and the man would be called upon to testify.
    â€œBefore that could happen, though, there was a problem. A pretty serious one. Right before he’d been caught, the killer had discovered the whereabouts of the man and his daughter. Even though he was behind bars, the killer was still very powerful. He taunted the detective, saying he would go free because the man would never live to testify. The killer had put a price on his head.”
    At this, my head popped back up and stayed up. “Okay,” I said, scooting back once more. “Wait a minute. Time out. You’re telling me some psycho’s after you?”
    â€œI don’t actually think he can be classified as a psycho,” my father said. “He’s just a really bad guy.”
    â€œI’m thinking price on your head is the thing to focus on here, Dad,” I replied. “You’re saying this guy wants you dead?”
    My father nodded. “According to Detective Mortensen.”
    â€œAnd how does Detective Mortensen plan to protect you?” I inquired, trying not to hear the horrified panic in my own voice. Whatever story I’d thought my father might have told, whatever explanation he might have given for all our years of moving, this very definitely had not been