The Fever by Megan Abbott Read Free Book Online

himself back behind the school, where the equipment manager kept the rusting bins of rubber balls, hockey pucks, and helmets.
    The air heavy with Sani Sport and ammonia and old sweat, it reminded him of the smell when he’d put his skates on the radiator after a game, scorching them to dryness. As cold as it was, he could still smell it, and it soothed him.
    He was sitting on the railing of the loading ramp when he heard a skitter, then the shush of a heavy skirt.
    â€œYou want some?” a crackly voice said.
    He turned and saw that Skye girl again, leaning against the brick wall, a beret tugged over her masses of blond hair.
    She was holding a brown cigarette in her hand, a sweet scent wafting from her, mixed with girl smells like hairspray and powder.
    â€œWhat?” he said, stalling for time, watching her walk closer to him, her vinyl boots glossy and damp.
    She waved the cigarette at him.
    He wasn’t sure what it was, but it didn’t smell like pot. He wouldn’t have wanted it if it was. It affected his play. A few times, though, he’d smoked at night, at a party, then picked up his skates, headed to the community rink. Coach had given him a key and he could go after closing, the ice strewn with shavings from the night’s free-skate, the hard cuts from a pickup game. He could be as slow as he wanted.
    He’d spin circuits, the gliding settling him, the feeling in his chest and the black sky through the tall windows.
    Sometimes he felt like it was the only time he truly breathed. It reminded him of being six and his mom first taking him out on the ice, kneeling down to hold his quaking ankles with her purple mittens, stiff with snow.
    â€œIt’s all-natural,” Skye said, returning the cigarette to her mouth. Her lavender lips. “I don’t believe in putting bad things inside me. It’s musk root. It helps you achieve balance.”
    â€œMy balance is good,” he said, the smell of her cigarette drifting toward him again. Spicy, cloying. He kind of liked it but didn’t want to. “But thanks.”
    â€œI heard Deenie went to the hospital,” she said. “And that Lise’s mom’s freaking out and that Lise almost died.”
    Everyone knew things so fast, phones like constant pulses under the skin.
    â€œI don’t really know,” he said. “You’d have to ask her.”
    She nodded, then seemed to shudder a little, her narrow shoulders bending in like a bird’s.
    â€œIt’s funny how you never think about your heart,” she said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œAbout your real heart,” she said. “Not when you’re young like us. I heard her heart stopped for a minute. I never thought about my heart before. Did you?”
    Eli didn’t say anything but slid off the ramp. Looking at her hands, he saw they were shaking, and he wondered for a second if she was going to be sick.
    â€œIt’s funny,” she said, “because it’s almost like I felt it before it happened. I’ve known Lise a while. We used to share bunks at sleepaway camp. She has a very strong energy, don’t you think?”
    â€œI don’t know,” he said, heading toward the door, the blast of heat from inside.
    â€œThis morning I was waiting for Lise at her locker. I had my hand on the locker door and it was so freaky. I felt this energy shoot up my body.”
    She lifted her free hand and fluttered it from her waist to her neck.
    He watched her.
    â€œLike a little jolt. Right to the center of me.”
    She let her hand, blue from the cold, drift down to her stomach and rest, the dark-red tassels of her scarf hanging there.
    â€œBut that’s how I am,” she said. “My aunt says I was born with dark circles on my feet, like a tortoiseshell. Which means I feel things very deeply.”
    *  *  *
    There was only one period left and suddenly Deenie couldn’t remember where she was supposed