Tex by S. E. Hinton Read Free Book Online Page A

He sounded like as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over. Then Cole said, “Where’s your brother?”
    I froze. I shut my eyes so tight I saw sparks. Tell him I’m at school. Tell him I left home. Say that I…
    â€œIt wasn’t him either. Why don’t you ask Robert who it was?”
    There was a silence. Then Cole said, “Bob says he’s to blame. He takes full responsibility. He isn’t a good liar, though, even to protect someone else … I’d like to talk to Tex, if you don’t mind.”
    I had an image of him searching the room, dragging me out from under the bed … if Mason could knock my teeth loose, Cole Collins could knock my head right off my shoulders.
    â€œI mind all right,” Mason was saying. “I mind a lot, as a matter of fact. Don’t you have enough kids of your own to hassle?”
    My eyes flew wide open. Now he’s done it! I started inching my way out, figuring if they got into it I could help Mason.
    Cole was quiet, like he was so mad he couldn’t talk. Then he said, “I’d appreciate it if in the future you didn’t associate with my kids.”
    â€œTell it to them!” Mason said, and slammed the door so hard the whole house rattled. The sound split through my head like a bolt of lightning.
    Mason was swearing a blue streak. I had decided to crawl out from under the bed, but on second thought stayed where I was. Mason came stomping in. “I’d like to know who he thinks he is—associate with his kids, hell! I reckon he thinks we’ll corrupt the little darlin’s. So Bob’s protecting somebody, huh? I could sure tell you who, you—”
    He broke off suddenly. “Tex?”
    I scooted out from under the bed. I was grimy with dust balls and cobwebs. My stomach started churning around again, and when I sat up funny black lines kept floating across my vision.
    â€œLose something?” Mason asked, sarcastic. “Well, get up and clean the tub out. You’ll sure have to take a bath before school.”
    â€œI c-c-can’t…” I broke off, sneezing from the dust all over my face. Every sneeze felt like it was going to pop my head wide open. I held my head together with my hands. “I can’t go to school,” I finally finished. “I got the flu.”
    â€œYou got a hangover and you’re going anyway.”
    â€œThis is a hangover?” I asked, amazed. “But Mason, I’m really sick!”
    I thought about the times Roger Genet came to class drunk or hungover and he groaned about how miserable he was, and everybody’d laugh at him. Shoot, I wouldn’t laugh at him no more. What I couldn’t figure was, if drinking made you sick, why anybody’d want to do it?
    I got up queasily, went to the john, took one look in the tub, and got a case of the heaves. I leaned on the sink, trying to get steady. I got a look at myself in the shaving mirror. All the blood had drained out of my face till my tan looked like a layer of brown paint over white.
    â€œAll right,” Mason said, pulling on his boots. “You can stay home. Just get that mess cleaned up later.”
    He gave a short, sudden, mean laugh.
    â€œWhat you thinkin’ about?” I asked, crawling past him to get under the quilts.
    â€œI was thinking about going over to the Collins’ and demanding to know who got you drunk last night.”
    â€œHey don’t do that,” I said, alarmed. “It was Charlie.”
    â€œOh, I knew that. But if Robert wasn’t going to squeal, I wasn’t either.”
    I was shivering. “There any cure for a hangover?”
    â€œAspirins, but we’re out. A Bloody Mary’s supposed to help.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œVodka and tomato juice.”
    â€œVodka!” I groaned. “No, thanks.”
    I spent a lot of that day in bed, sleeping on and off. When I did finally get