Teardrop by Lauren Kate Read Free Book Online Page A

truck was disgusting. One glance through the open window told Eureka she did not want a ride in that. There were dirty magazines everywhere, greasy bags of cracklins on the dash. A spearmint air freshener hung from the rearview mirror, leaning on a wooden icon of Saint Theresa. Cory’s hands were black with axle grease. Heneeded the kind of power wash reserved for soot-stained medieval buildings.
    “Eureka,” Ander said. “I can give you a ride.”
    She found herself thinking of Rhoda, wondering what she’d say if she were sitting in her shoulder-padded business suit upon Eureka’s shoulder. Neither option constituted what Dad’s wife would call “a sound decision,” but at least Cory was a known phenomenon. And Eureka’s sharp reflexes could keep the creep’s hands on the wheel.
    Then there was Ander.…
    Why was Eureka thinking about what Rhoda, instead of Diana, would advise? She didn’t want to be anything like Rhoda. She wanted to be a lot like her mother, who never talked about safety or judgment. Diana talked about passion and dreams.
    And she was gone.
    And this was just a ride to school, not a life-changing decision.
    Her phone was buzzing. It was Cat:
Wish us luck leaving Manor in the dust. Whole team misses you
.
    The race was in eighteen minutes. Eureka intended to wish Cat luck in person, whether or not she ran herself. She gave Ander a quick nod—
Okay
—and walked over to his truck. “Take the car to Sweet Pea’s, Cory,” she called from the passenger door. “My dad and I will pick it up later.”
    “Suit yourself.” Cory heaved himself into his truck, annoyed.He nodded toward Ander. “Watch out for that dude. He’s got a face I’d like to forget.”
    “I’m sure you will,” Ander muttered as he opened the driver’s-side door.
    The inside of his truck was immaculate. It must have been thirty years old, but the dashboard shone as if it had just been hand-polished. The radio was playing an old Bunk Johnson song. Eureka slid up on the soft leather bench and fastened her seat belt.
    “I’m supposed to be back at school already,” she said as Ander started up the truck. “Would you step on it? It’s faster if you take the—”
    “Side roads, I know.” Ander turned left down a shady dirt road that Eureka thought of as her shortcut. She watched as he gunned the gas, driving with familiarity on this seldom-traveled, maize-lined road.
    “I go to Evangeline High. It’s on—”
    “Woodvale and Hampton,” Ander said. “I know.”
    She scratched her forehead, wondering suddenly if this kid went to her school, had sat behind her in English for three years in a row or something. But she knew every one of the two hundred and seventy-six people at her small Catholic high school. At least, she knew them all by sight. If someone like Ander went to Evangeline, she would more than know about him. Cat would be absolutely all over him, and so, according to the laws of best friendship, Eureka would have hisbirthday, his favorite weekend hangout, and his license plate number memorized.
    So where did he go to school? Instead of being plastered with bumper stickers or mascot paraphernalia on the dashboard, like most public school kids’ cars, Ander’s truck looked bare. A simple square tag a few inches wide hung from the rearview mirror. It had a metallic silver background and featured a blue stick figure holding a spear pointed toward the ground. She leaned forward to examine it, noting that it bore the same image on both sides. It smelled like citronella.
    “Air freshener,” Ander said as Eureka breathed in a whiff. “They give them out free at the car wash.”
    She settled back in her seat. Ander didn’t even have a bag. In fact, Eureka’s overstuffed purple tote spoiled the tidiness of the truck.
    “I’ve never seen a kid with such a spotless car. Don’t you have homework?” she joked. “Books?”
    “I can read books,” Ander said curtly.
    “Okay, you’re literate.