Amelia Anne Is Dead and Gone by Kat Rosenfield

Author:Kat Rosenfield [Rosenfield, Kat]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781101574928
Publisher: Penguin Group
Published: 2012-07-05T00:00:00+00:00

AMELIA

Luke was in high spirits as they sped up the ramp to I-95, reaching for her hand as they entered Connecticut and loudly announcing, “Welcome to the whitest state in America!”

She laughed and turned to look out the window. The afternoon had been gray, with a few drops of rain falling sporadically on the windshield, but now the clouds overhead seemed to be breaking. They looked stretched, thinned out and tufted with pink tendrils that reached back and to the west where the sun was beginning to set. It reflected off the rearview mirror, painting a bright wash of orange light onto her neck and chin. A cold, damp wind blew through the window—coming from far away, from an ocean she couldn’t see, but which she knew the road would follow all the way there, to the Cape, where they would follow a series of roundabouts and finally wind their way to the small, clapboard house that was theirs for the summer. The breeze licked at her upper arms. Luke, in a moment of uncharacteristic but entertaining vulgarity, had said he liked the way the thin jersey dress she’d chosen for traveling clung to her tits, but now she shivered and wished she’d remembered to pull a sweater from her duffel bag. It was impossible now, locked in the trunk and out of reach.

He seemed to have read her thoughts as he shrugged out of his hooded sweatshirt and handed it over to her. “Here, put this on,” he said.

“What are you, psychic?” she asked, smiling. She draped the sweatshirt over her front, like a blanket, and tucked her knees up beneath it. It smelled deliciously male, a mix of sweat and deodorant clinging to the soft fabric.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” he said, laughing. “But in this case, it was my highly developed sense of touch which informed me that you were shivering hard enough to shake the entire car.”

“Oh, ha-ha,” she said. “You must be disappointed, you can’t see my tits anymore.”

He looked over at her and breathed an exaggerated sigh. “Alas, I cannot. But it’s all right.”

“You forgive me?”

“Well, there will be other days, and other drives, and”—he paused for a moment—“other tits.”

Then, “Hey, don’t hit me! I’m driving!”

She settled back, still laughing and glaring at him in pretend-fury, and tucked her hands under the hoodie again. The setting sun had filled the car with orange light, pouring through the back window and bathing the dashboard in a wash of color. They grinned at each other as the sun finally slipped below the horizon. Ahead, the gray highway with its sleek dotted line stretched into the distance, nothing but asphalt and trees and one garish green sign that announced a service area five miles ahead.

She slumped deeper into the seat and sighed.

“You okay?”

“I feel sleepy,” she said. “Which is all your fault.”

Luke pounded his chest exaggeratedly and grunted, then grinned and turned his eyes back toward the road. She looked at him, not sure whether to be amused or amazed.

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