One Day More: A Life After Theft Novella by Aprilynne Pike

Author:Aprilynne Pike [Pike, Aprilynne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-04-01T22:00:00+00:00

I jerk upright, gasping for breath, and my hands fly to my chest. Where that terrible pain still radiates.

No. The pain is gone.

I suck in breath after breath of air as sweet as the finest chocolate. For a few moments I just breathe.

I’m alive.

Aren’t I?

My vision seems to fade in slowly as I look down and take stock of myself. I’m in my Whitestone uniform, my favorite black platforms. My hands fly to my hair and I can just see the blond ends hanging by my shoulder.

They’re dry.

My hearing comes next. People. I hear people. Voices. I turn my head and see kids all around me. Whitestone students I’ve known my whole life. I clear my throat and mutter, “Hello, hello?” under my breath until I’m certain I can, in fact, speak.

That the terrible, stinging ache in my throat is gone.

I blink and slowly realize it’s daytime—sunlight is streaming in from the row of square windows above the lockers. I’m at school. I’m sitting on the ground at Whitestone. In the middle of the main hallway. I must have slipped, hit my head. Blacked out for a few seconds. I laugh nervously as understanding dawns on me.

It was a dream.

The most awful, realistic dream ever. I may never be able to go swimming again.

I curl my feet under me and push up off the floor. I expect my muscles to be sore, but they’re not. A dream, I tell myself again, almost giddy with relief. Just a dream. I know the other kids have got to be staring—I must have pulled the stupidest klutz move ever when I fell—but for once, I don’t care. Couldn’t care less, actually. I put my chin in the air and can’t stop a little smile from curling my mouth into a U. Stare away, jerks. I’m alive!

I need to find Langdon. Practice or no practice, he’s coming out with me now. I don’t want to go drinking, though. I want a freaking milkshake or something. To act like a little kid and make myself sick on sugar. That sounds good.

I don’t even care that it’s Thursday. Because tomorrow it will be Friday, not the end of my existence.

Worst. Dream. Ever.

Even though I’m not actually sore, I’m a little shaky as I set off down the hall. Like everything is different now. It’s as though I had an actual near-death experience and my whole—I don’t know—outlook on life is different now. I feel new. To be honest, it’s a little creepy, like something you might see in a cheesy feel-good movie.

I glance over my shoulder at the kids just milling around, not looking, not pointing. Which I guess is good. But why didn’t anyone help me up? Take me to the nurse or something? Self-centered brats. What else can I expect from a bunch of private-school Special Snowflakes? If I’m honest with myself, I probably wouldn’t have helped someone if I saw them biff it in the middle of the hall, either.

I peer around. What

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