The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks Read Free Book Online Page A

in bed.
    Probably wild, he thought. Most of them were, with the right kind of encouragement.

5

    W ill
    N o matter what he was doing, Will could always feel the weight of the secret pressing down on him. On the surface, everything
     seemed normal: In the last six months, he’d gone to his classes, played basketball, attended the prom, and graduated from
     high school, college-bound. It hadn’t been all perfect, of course. Six weeks ago, he’d broken up with Ashley, but it had nothing
     to do with what had happened that night, the night he could never forget. Most of the time, he was able to keep the memory
     locked away, but every now and then, at odd times, it all came back to him with visceral force. The images never changed or
     faded, the images never blurred around the edges. As though viewing it through someone else’s eyes, he would see himself running
     up the beach and grabbing Scott as he stared at the raging fire.
    What the hell did you do?
he remembered screaming.
    It’s not my fault!
Scott had screamed back.
    It was only then, however, that Will realized they weren’t alone. In the distance, he noticed Marcus, Blaze, Teddy, and Lance,
     watching them, and he knew at once they’d seen everything that happened.
    They knew…
    As soon as Will grabbed for his cell phone, Scott stopped him.
    Don’t call the police! I told you it was an accident!
His expression was pleading.
Come on, man! You owe me!
    News coverage had been extensive the first couple of days, and Will had watched the segments and read the articles in the
     paper, his stomach in knots. It was one thing to cover for an accidental fire. Maybe he could have done that. But someone
     had been injured that night, and he felt a sickening surge of guilt whenever he drove by the site. It didn’t matter that the
     church was being rebuilt or that the pastor had long since been released from the hospital; what mattered was that he knew
     what had happened and hadn’t done anything about it.
    You owe me…
    Those were the words that haunted him most.
    Not simply because he and Scott had been best friends since kindergarten, but for another, more important reason. And sometimes,
     in the middle of the night, he would lie awake, hating the truth of those words and wishing for a way to make things right.
    Oddly enough, it was the incident at the volleyball game earlier in the day that triggered the memories this time. Or rather,
     it had been the girl he’d collided with. She hadn’t been interested in his apologies, and unlike most girls around here, she
     hadn’t tried to mask her anger. She didn’t simmer and she didn’t squeal; she was self-possessed in a way that struck him instantly
     as different.
    After she’d stormed off, they’d finished out the set, and he had to admit he’d missed a couple of shots he ordinarily wouldn’t
     have. Scott had glared at him and—maybe because of the play of light—he’d looked exactly as he had on the night of the fire
     when Will had pulled out his cell phone to call the police. And that was all it took to set those memories loose again.
    He’d been able to hold it together until they’d won the game, but after it ended, he’d needed some time alone. So he’d wandered
     over to the fairgrounds and stopped at one of those overpriced, impossible-to-win game booths. He was getting ready to shoot
     an overinflated basketball at the slightly too high rim when he heard a voice behind him.
    “There you are,” Ashley said. “Were you avoiding us?”
    Yes,
he thought.
Actually, I was.
    “No,” he answered. “I haven’t taken a shot since the season ended, and I wanted to see how rusty I am.”
    Ashley smiled. Her white tube top, sandals, and dangly earrings showed off her blue eyes and blond hair to maximum effect.
     She’d changed into the outfit since the final volleyball game of the tournament. Typical; she was the only girl he’d ever
     known who carried complete outfit changes as a regular rule,