by a substance resembling dried

nail polish; despite the drama

I’ve jump-started, then left in my

exhaust, I am sent to school.

While I wait for Matt, people take

one look, swing wide around me,

as if the condition of my face

might be contagious or something.

I seriously need a major dose

of Matt. Need to feel cared for.

Loved. So far, though, no Matt.

But here comes Kyle. Solo.

Odd. He and Matt always ride

together. He notices me, and

even from here I can see his face

light up. But when he pushes

near, he pales. Oh my God.

What happened to you?

I launch a condensed version

of the lurid story, and as I talk,

he reaches out, gently traces

the contour of the wound.

The move is unexpected.

Uncharacteristic. Unbelievab

ly

tender. No one has ever touched

me quite this way. I look up

into his eyes, find invitation.

That isn’t new. But this feels

different. My own hand lifts,

Tags: Ellen Hopkins Crank
Source: readsnovelonline.net