King 02 - Breathless by Tawdra Kandle Read Free Book Online Page B

are all right?
    Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. Even as slowly as I’d been moving, it was still early. Nevertheless, I pushed back my chair from the table.
    “That was great, Mom. Thanks. I’m going to brush my teeth and then head out, okay?”
    She frowned. “It’s not time yet, is it? I want to take some pictures.”
    I stifled a groan. “Seriously, Mom, do we have to? I just want to get going. I didn’t sleep well, and I’m a little jumpy.”
    “Why didn’t you sleep well?” Now anxious vibes were pouring off my mother.
    I averted my eyes. “Just some nightmares. I think it was nerves.” I smiled as brightly as I could. “And I want to leave a little early since I’m not used to driving myself. I know I can do it, but the Mustang still kind of worries me sometimes.”
    “I can always drive you today if you want,” she offered hopefully. I knew she and my dad had their own reservations about me having temporary custody of Michael’s car.
    “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I just want to get moving.”
    I got out of the house after only a few pictures. My mom stood at the door and watched me as I dumped my bag in the backseat and climbed into the car. I gave her a jaunty wave, took a deep breath and turned the ignition. I needed to get down the street without stalling, and my biggest challenge was always first gear.
    Luck was with me, and I gave a breath of thanks as I eased down the road. It was still so odd, driving the Mustang without Michael in the passenger seat. I ran my hand over her smooth hard steering wheel and missed him with a physical pang.
    To take my mind off the pain, at the next stop sign I pulled out my MP3 player and plugged it into the radio. This was Michael’s early birthday gift to me: he’d replaced the original AM-only radio with one that would allow me to play my iPod.
    “After all,” he’d laughed as I squealed in excitement, “I won’t be around to talk to you on the drives to and from school. You need some distraction.”
    Now I flicked my favorite play list to shuffle and continued on my way, keeping the volume to a safe level in the interest of the early hour, not to mention the promise that I’d made to my parents to keep it down. Even so, the music flooding the car went a long way toward calming my nerves and soothing my aching heart.
    The ride to school was short, and I pulled into a nearly empty parking lot. I flashed back to my first view of the lot last year, when I was the new girl; I remembered Michael walking me out on my first day at school. So many memories of our early relationship lived here in the school that I knew coming back was going to be painful.
    I reached into the backpack to pull out the schedule of classes I’d received last week. My schedule this year was challenging: the morning began with European History, which I knew I’d enjoy, but then it was followed by physics and calculus. Neither was required, but my father and Michael had encouraged me to take the classes. Privately I felt that they both had an inflated sense of my mathematical and scientific abilities.
    Since I’d already completed most of my requirements for graduation, I was permitted to take an independent study course before lunch. There was a note on the schedule informing me of a meeting with my advisor today during that class period, during which time we would discuss the nature of my study. I was hoping to use the time for an additional history course, if one of the teachers would agree to work with me then.
    My afternoon schedule was easier: English with Mr. Robinson, a new teacher in the school, and French IV with Madame Sill, the same instructor I’d had in French III. I had enjoyed her class during junior year, and I was looking forward to seeing her again.
    As I turned to slide the paper back into my bag, I felt a vibration in the pocket of my sweater. I’d already turned my cell phone to silent before starting to drive, fulfilling another promise to my