The Screaming Season by Nancy Holder Read Free Book Online Page A

asked, and I couldn’t help smiling. It was nice to be wanted.
    “Gotta go,” she said impishly. “Call when you can.”
    We disconnected. It was all so complicated. I had left San Diego so I could leave San Diego. But it wasn’t like an old novel, where once you were gone, no one could find you. Nowadays, if Heathcliff had left Wuthering Heights, he and his great lost love Cathy would have texted.
    Ms. Simonet came in with my iron supplement and commented on the change in me. She left me alone to do some of my mountains of homework. I flipped open my laptop to get to work, but I couldn’t help surfing the net first. The cell and internet reception in the mountains was very spotty, but the infirmary had an excellent signal. There wasn’t much online about the troubles at Marlwood. Kiyoko’s death was old news. Rose had sent me an animated e-card set to the tunes of “Send in the Clowns,” and the ruckus about her parents’ divorce was splashed everywhere. My parents had checked in a lot; I called them and spun the situation, as I was sure it had been spun before me. I was alternately miffed and relieved that they didn’t seem more worried about me.
    Maybe they didn’t need to be. Maybe somehow, Dr. Morehouse had exorcised Celia, and I was finally free.
    So maybe . . . I could leave. I stifled a giggle of joy. Oh, to be done with this. To be a normal girl, interested in free verse poetry, the cello, knitting, and guys.
    Troy, I thought, and then, Riley .
    It was all so complicated.

    A FEW HOURS later, while I was curled up in bed, there was a jaunty rap on my door. The door cracked open and a single eye peered in at me.
    “Hail, eyeball of Miles,” I said, tensing. I knew he’d been by to see me before. I just hadn’t been fully conscious for the occasion.
    “Hail, weirdness of you,” he replied, strolling in.
    He was swathed in a really beautiful black overcoat and beneath it, a jet-black European-looking sort of suit, very slouchy and cool. He was wearing black leather gloves and loafers. The clothes were amazing. He had styled his platinum blond hair into his signature retro ducktail, and there was stubble on his cheeks. I couldn’t decide if he looked good or slagged, but that was my usual reaction to Miles. Just as I couldn’t decide if he frightened or repulsed me more.
    “You’re not wearing your red thread. That way lies madness.” He pulled off his left glove and pushed up his sleeve, revealing the Kabbalah thread or whatever it was called. I’d lost the one Shayna had given me. After I lost my mind, Miles had wound a replacement around my wrist. As if it would really protect me from something.
    “I think they were afraid I might saw my head off with it.” I shut my laptop and set it aside.
    “You might have.”
    “Thanks.”
    He inclined his head. “I live to annoy you.” Cocked it to the side. “I thought sickbeds were for sick people.”
    “I have pneumonia.”
    “Some people will do anything to get out of classes.” He flopped down into the burgundy leather chair. I had on my mom’s sweatshirt but no bra. I wondered if he could tell. Probably not. Still, I felt a little weirded out.
    He put a cigarette in his mouth.
    “You can’t smoke in here,” I said. “Plus, you can’t smoke around me anywhere.”
    “Oh, you’ve grown a pair.” He let the cigarette hang off his lip, but he didn’t light it.
    “You’re just less scary than you used to be.” My voice cracked, giving the lie to my statement, and he grimaced sympathetically.
    “Well, Mandy’s scarier, these days.” He leaned forward on his elbows and searched my face. There were circles under his eyes, and he was gaunt. “And I think you know something about that, scary girl.”
    I swallowed. Hard. He was giving me a look that said, You know exactly what I’m talking about. Guilt and fear and maybe even a little bit of hope rose inside me. “Wh-what?” I croaked.
    He smiled grimly. “Lindsay Anne, don’t