Spark by Melissa Dereberry Read Free Book Online

fitting into any discernible group.  We were different, Zach and I.  I know what it’s like to be the tallest girl in school , I thought.  For a guy, being tall means power.  For a girl, it means 'off limits.'
    I was shamelessly staring, but thankfully I still had my sunglasses on.  Still, I couldn’t resist the urge to peek over the top of them as he went out the door.  When I realized I probably looked really dumb wearing sunglasses inside, I reached up and took them off.  Just as I was about to look away, he looked casually over his shoulder in my direction, paused for a moment, and slipped outside.  This is going to sound crazy, but our eyes met, sort of locked together for a second.  From all the way across the food court.  Insane, I know.  But I felt it.  It was sort of like in my dream.  And believe me, I’m pretty skeptical when it comes to stuff like that.  Like one time, Dani told me she dreamed she had an orange cat named Tinkerbell and some kid showed up at her door a week later handing out flyers for a lost cat.  “Was it orange?”  I’d asked, not seeing the relevance of the story at that point. 
    “No, but its name was Skippy.”
    “So,” I said, still not getting it.
    “ So… Tinkerbell.  Peter Pan.  Skippy.  Peanut butter—get it?”  It was a stretch, but that’s how Dani operated.  Dreams are overrated if you ask me.
     
    So a few weeks before school started, I decided to take myself to a matinee at the old theater downtown.  I just had an urge to get out of these four walls and go exploring.  I thought about calling Cricket, but I still didn’t know her very well, and I wanted some time just to chill by myself.  There would be plenty of time to socialize later. 
                  Mom was in a good mood that morning, so I figured it was safe to ask her if I could borrow the car.  She didn’t normally even let me drive unless she rode with me, and my own car was out of the question.  I was destined to be the only high school senior on the bus, unlike Cricket, whose parents had bought her a car the day she turned sixteen.  When I approached Mom about her car, she agreed, but with strict instructions.  “Go straight to the theater, don’t make any unnecessary stops, and make sure you check the lock twice,” she said.
    “ Mom, It's not like I’m thirteen,” I replied with a groan.  “I can manage driving myself to a movie.”  My mom winced a little at the mention of me being thirteen, and I felt a little guilty, so I gave her a hug.  “I’ll be fine!”
    With a forced smile, Mom said, “I know, Sweetie,” as if she were just a little bit hurt that I hadn’t invited her along.  I was expecting her to suggest a girls’ day, but she just sighed and threw her hands up nonchalantly.  “I just worry about you, that’s all.”  
    Here we go again , I thought.  She’s going to give me a lecture about my health, adjusting socially, and my overall recovery. About how I’ve been through so much.  Um, actually, Mom, I can’t really say I’ve been through something if I don’t remember any of it.  It’s like a big empty space.  A black hole.  Nothing there, and therefore, nothing.   “I know, Mom.  We’ve been through this a million times.” I reached for the keys and was off. 
     
    I was early for the 2:00 show, so I took my time driving, checking out the scenery and listening to music.  I pulled up to the stoplight at the corner of Division and Grant, about three or four blocks away from the theater.  It was ninety-five degrees and my windshield was dirty.  The sun was glaring and annoying and my air conditioner wasn’t working fast enough.  Neither was the stoplight.  I stared at it as if my gaze would change it.  I tapped the steering wheel and gripped it with both hands and it was then that I glanced at the white car beside me.  There was a person in it, a male person, a very cute male person, a person with light