Two Roads by L.M. Augustine Read Free Book Online Page A

at this.’
    I watch as she pulls out a pamphlet of some sort. “I promise, this gift is a bit more up your alley,” she says as if she can read my thoughts. She hands me the piece of paper, and I take it hesitantly. With Ruby, you never know whether what you’re getting is a thoughtful gift or… something else.
    I frown at her and decide to play it safe. “Can you confirm that this is not another informational packet on sex?” I really don’t need to experience another one of those Ruby-isms again.
    “What does it matter? You know you loved the last one I sent you. You needed it,” she adds.
    “Yeah,” I say blankly, staring at the pamphlet. It doesn’t appear to be about the female body, but with Ruby, who knows. I’m not taking my chances.
    “But no,” Ruby says, “it isn’t. Just take a look.”
    We both know I have nothing better to do today, so I open it up.
    The pamphlet is that annoyingly red and colorful kind that shows a picture of a hotel and a pool like it’s some sort of oasis where if you go there, everything in your life will magically get better. This is most certainly not a vacation pamphlet, however, judging by the black and white photo of Robert Frost positioned in the right corner of the page and the famous quotes by him and E.E. Cummings and other poets typed below it. “National Poet’s Convention” is written at the top in large black and green font, with the words, “Los Angeles, California - 2013” directly under it. I start flipping through the pages, all of which detail the different activities at the convention--poetry critiques, recitations, book signings, conversing with fellow poets, and debates about famous poets and their poems.
    I, of course, have heard of the convention before. It’s the biggest gathering place for hardcore poetry nerds, and Ruby knows it. All of the big names in poetry attend--the most popular poets, editors, agents, and bloggers in the industry--and all they do is talk poetry. It’s a pretty freaking huge deal. I’ve wanted to go since I was a kid, to meet people like me, but it’s also insanely expensive and being that I have no money and my parents refuse to fund anything for me that will potentially steer me away from my “destiny” of becoming an engineer, I never had a choice. It’s a nice idea, attending the convention, but it’s just not possible. Not until I can make a stable living.
    I sigh vaguely as I flip through the pages, then glance back up at Ruby.
    “Well?” she asks.
    “ Well , my first question is who the hell gives out pamphlets anymore?”
    “Some weird nerdy kid handing it out on the sidewalk. Next question.” I can’t help but notice how eager she looks, which makes me hate myself all the more for not wanting to go.
    “My next question,” I say, “is how can I possibly pay for it? I mean, it sounds cool and I’m glad you showed it to me, but I have no money and I also have classes during those days and I can’t…”
    “So skip school. And I’ll pay for you,” she says simply.
    “But I also need to bring a friend.”
    She watches me suspiciously. “So bring me.”
    I wince. “I don’t want you to do that,” I say quietly.
    I want to go to the convention. I really do. But it just feels… wrong now. Ben always promised me he would take me there for the first time once he graduated college, said we would road-trip to wherever in the country they were hosting it that year and it would be awesome. He assured me he would turn me into a geek like he did Logan, that I would come to the dark side, and I always rolled my eyes at him and shoved his arm and told him that was a horrible idea, playing the tough girl routine, even though a secret smile always crept across my lips. Ben was the one who initially turned me on to the conference and poetry in general, and he promised me with that goofy smile of his that he would do everything in his power to be the first to take me to the National Poet’s Convention. So