Tell Me When by Stina Lindenblatt Read Free Book Online Page B

steps into the room.
    “Hi,” I say. Are you staying long?
    Without a word—not that she has to, the glare says it all—she sits at her desk and pulls out a sketch pad from her backpack. She then removes a small metal box filled with pencils. She draws? All I know about Brittany is she’s either studying pre-med or criminology. Or both.
    “Can I help you?” Her tone suggests she’ll be anything but helpful.
    “No.” I pick up my math book and notes, and slip them into my backpack.
    I arrive at the library to find it quiet, with only a few other students studying in the cubicles against the walls. I sit at a table where it’s easy to spot anyone watching me. It’s harder to study here than in my room, because I have to be alert to everything around me. But this is better than nothing, and better than being in the same room as Brittany.
    I open my math book and study the example, again. I can do this. Take a deep breath , Amber , and let the numbers talk to you , Trent’s voice says in my head. I work through the problem once more, but it feels as though all my energy has drained into my chair. All that’s left of me is the lifeless shell of a rag doll.
    My eyelids drift closed, my fight to keep them open lost in the pointless battle.
    * * *
    “ Wake up , Amber. ” Someone tenderly touches my cheek. “ Time to wake up. I have a surprise , and I know you love surprises. ”
    He’s wrong. I hate surprises. Everyone knows that , but it doesn’t stop Trent from surprising me. He says it’s more romantic that way.
    Inwardly I smile. When did my best friend become such a romantic?
    I feel funny. Groggy. Drunk. I don’t remember getting drunk. I remember driving and getting a flat tire. I remember Paul showed up and offered to help. I don’t remember much else.
    I open my eyes. I’m in a fun house , mirrors everywhere I look. I stagger up and sway on my feet as I turn around , searching for an exit. Fun house? There are no fun houses in Crossfields.
    “ Am-ber. Wake up. ” The voice booms through the room. I cover my ears against the deafening noise , my heart slamming against my ribs , a frightened bird trapped in a cage , desperate to escape.
    “ Am-ber ,” the voice taunts. “ You’re mine forever. And I’ll love you in a way your boyfriend never could. ”
    “ Go away ,” I scream. “ Leave me alone. ”
    This is met with a laugh that sets the mirrors shaking. Thick cracks split across them , like a network of branches. One by one , the mirror fragments fall free of the walls. I drop to the ground and cover my head with my arms. Glass cuts into my back and I scream , the sound masked by the shattering of glass against the cold concrete ground.
    * * *
    “Hey, wake up,” a male voice says, and someone nudges my shoulder.
    I jerk awake and sit up abruptly, heart still slamming against my ribs. Only instead of a fun house, I’m in the library.
    The black-haired guy I first saw at Your Designs, now with a faded bruise on his jaw, crouches next to me. And does nothing to slow my speeding heart.
    “That must have been some dream.” He watches me with a mix of concern and curiosity, head tilted to the side. “You were screaming.” He checks out the book in front of me. “Math not your thing, huh? Well, that would explain the nightmare.” A cocky smile spreads on his face, setting off alarms in my head.
    “Look,” I say, still shaken at seeing him here, “if you don’t stop stalking me, I’ll report you to the cops.”
    “Whoa”—he unfolds himself and steps away from the table in a fluid motion—“what the fuck are you talking about? I’m not stalking you.” The smile is back on his face. “I don’t need to stalk women. They tend to stalk me.”
    “Well, unless you can help me get an A in my class, get lost.” This guy doesn’t look like he gets As in any of his classes, let alone in math.
    His smile widens. “I can tutor you, Kitten.”
    I narrow my eyes. What kind of idiot does