The Unquiet by Mikaela Everett

Author:Mikaela Everett [Everett, Mikaela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile, Science Fiction, Family, Violence
ISBN: 9780062381279
Google: U8H3BQAAQBAJ
Amazon: 006238127X
Barnesnoble: 006238127X
Goodreads: 22595271
Publisher: Greenwillow
Published: 2015-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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When I step out of Miss Odette’s office a few days later, he is waiting for me. The rude guy from before. I almost do not see him in the dark and curse the fact that I never remember to bring a light despite the fact that the hallway has been dark for months. “What cardboard face?” he asks, and I jump.

When his flashlight comes on, I hold up my hand to shield my eyes. “What cardboard face?” he asks again, in that same barking voice.

This time I do not hesitate. “Well, I’d imagine that it’s cardboard since it only has the one angry look. I figured it was either that or plastic surgery.” He splutters. I take the opportunity to add: “If you were a person on the street I was walking past, I would still greet you. I don’t know why you had to be such an asshole.”

I leave him standing there, gaping at me, and think that I will never see him again. But a few weeks later we’re in front of the shop at the same time again. This time he pulls an apple out of his bag. “Here,” he says without meeting my eyes. “I’ve got this if you’re hungry.”

I feel the confusion flood my face. “You’re trying to feed me?” I ask after a moment, holding the apple as if it were poisoned.

The guy shrugs. He looks embarrassed all of a sudden. “You look like you need it.”

I recognize an insult when I hear it. I throw his apple onto the road. I pull my patched-up coat tighter around my body, and I walk away without looking back.

The next time, a box of biscuits. Which I actually don’t mind, but they meet the same fate as the apple. Though this time he walks with me and I shake my head. He is still holding the skateboard in his hand. “You’re a very confusing person, you know.”

“I know,” he says, staring at me, and then he sighs dramatically. “This is me trying to apologize here. I realize I was rude when we first met.”

“Okay,” I say, taken aback. When there doesn’t seem to be a catch, I add, “Apology accepted.”

He holds out his hand, and when I shake it, he smiles. “Great. See? And now we’ll get along.”

“Oh, I doubt it,” I say, pulling my hand back. “Anyway, why do you have that?”

He follows my eyes to his skateboard. “This? I’d never had one before. You ever wake up and have one of those days when you think, Oh, crap, I’m twenty-three, and I’ve never even been on a skateboard. Or a bike. Or a horse. And you’re shocked because you always thought you were more interesting?”

I give him a blank look. He shrugs and runs his hand down the skateboard. “It seemed like something I should have, so I just walked into a store and bought the first one I saw. You see, I’ve decided to renovate my life. I quit my job, got a haircut, bought a skateboard, started writing a play.

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