Free Death by Tara Brown Page A

say. His back straightens. He looks back and arches
his eyebrow at me. He slouches in his computer too much. It drives me insane.
    I look back at Shane and grin like the Chestshire cat. "Looks rowdy
in there."
    He looks back and puts his hands in his back pockets. "Yeah. Wanna
come in?" He asks. I furrow my brow and laugh. "Yeah."
    He shakes his head at himself and looks like he doesn’t know what his
next move is. He jerks and turns away from me. I walk up beside him and nudge
him. "You okay?"
    He nods, "Yeah."
    "Can you say anything beyond yeah?"
    He looks down on me and grins, his face is flushed. "Yeah." He
opens the door that’s been closed and holds it for me. "I can say you look
nice."
    I bite my lip, trying desperately not to blush. "Thanks. Alise. You
know what she's like."
    He laughs. "I do. Any guy would do anything for that girl." His
face turns crimson. "Except me. Of course."
    I swallow and can't help but wonder where the conversation is going.
"Of course."
    "She still dating that Luke guy from Handley?"
    I shake my head. "No. They only ever last a couple months. She is,
uhm, well, fickle."
    He laughs. "Fickle. That’s not the word I would use."
    I laugh and close the door. I notice Giselle in the yard still.
    I look back. "I'll be back in a minute." I open the door again
and run out to where she is.
    "You okay?" I ask.
    She looks at me and shakes her head. "I think I'm sick. Like the flu
or something."
    "Want me to drive you home?"
    She laughs. "Uh no. I just need a minute Aimes." She turns and
walks away and I can't help but frown. She used my nickname. She has never
called me Aimes in my life. She rounds the back of the house. I turn and walk
back inside.
    Shane is holding a drink for me. I take it and sniff. He rolls his eyes.
"I didn’t put booze in it. I know you don’t drink."
    I frown. "You do?"
    He laughs. "I've known you for a long time Aimes." His voice
turns throaty at the end of the sentence.
    I sip my lemonade and try not to shake. I cringe at the taste.
    "You don’t like lemonade?"
    I shake my head. "I do but it just tastes funny." My belly
rumbles. I glance out the backdoor to the deck. Giselle is standing there
leaning against the railing with a guy. His back is turned to me. Something
about it is bugging me.
    "You want to go sit?" Shane asks. I look up and nod. He grabs
my hand and electricity jolts up my arm.
    "Ouch." He pulls away.
    "Sorry. I think I shocked you."
    He laughs. "Quite the charge you have there." I rub my
fingertips together and swear I can feel sparks.
    I follow him to the quiet room at the back of the house, the sunroom. He
sits on an old couch next to the woodstove. I sit beside him and try to ignore
the sparks in my fingertips and rumbling in my belly.
    "You okay?" He asks.
    I nod. "Where is Blake?"
    We both look around but he isn’t in the kitchen or the sunroom or back
deck.
    "Maybe he's in the living room."
    "Maybe."
    He grins. "So you excited about the year being over?"
    I smile. "Yeah. I'm excited. I'm all ready to go."
    His face drops. "All the way to Harvard?"
    "Yeah. Far but awesome. You planning on Seattle still?"
    He shrugs. "Not sure. I don’t have a right fit yet."
    My stomach clenches. I almost double over. "Oh my god," I
whisper.
    "Aimes what is it?"
    I shake my head. "I don’t know. I don’t feel so good. I think I got
the flu." I stand and run for the back deck, "Just need some air. Be
right back." I shout back at him. I am terrified to shit my pants at his
house.
    I run down the stairs and put my hands on my hips. They are burning me
through my shirt and pants. Holding them out in the fading light, I can't see
anything different. My stomach drops again. I buckle and drop to the grass. It
hurts more than I can take. Sweat crosses my brow.
    A screaming girl interrupts my plans of running through the woods to my
house, where I can die in the privacy of my own bathroom. I struggle to my feet
and stumble down the back lawn, to the woods.
    "Oh my god. Mr.