Hush, Hush #1 Read Free Page A

to suck all the fog off Maine’s coast and transplant it into our yard. The house was at this moment veiled by gloom that resembled escaped and wandering spirits.
    I spent the evening planted on a stool in the kitchen in the company of algebra homework and Dorothea, our housekeeper. My mom works for the Hugo Renaldi Auction Company, coordinating estate and antique auctions all along the East Coast. This week she was in upstate New York. Her job required a lot of travel, and she paid Dorothea to cook and clean, but I was pretty sure the fine print on Dorothea’s job description included keeping a watchful, parental eye on me.
    “How was school?” Dorothea asked with a slight German accent. She stood at the sink, scrubbing overbaked lasagna off a casserole dish.
    “I have a new biology partner.”

    22
    “This is a good thing, or a bad thing?”
    “Vee was my old partner.”
    “Humph.” More vigorous scrubbing, and the flesh on Dorothea’s upper arm jiggled. “A bad thing, then.”
    I sighed in agreement.
    “Tell me about the new partner. This girl, what is she like?”
    “He’s tall, dark, and annoying.” And eerily closed off. Patch’s eyes were black orbs. Taking in everything and giving away nothing. Not that I wanted to know more about Patch. Since I hadn’t liked what I’d seen on the surface, I doubted I’d like what was lurking deep inside.
    Only, this wasn’t exactly true. I’d liked a lot of what I’d seen. Long, lean muscles down his arms, broad but relaxed shoulders, and a smile that was part playful, part seductive. I was in an uneasy alliance with myself, trying to ignore what had started to feel irresistible.
    At nine o’clock Dorothea finished for the evening and locked up on her way out. I flashed the porch lights twice to say good-bye; they must have penetrated the fog, because she answered with a honk. I was alone.
    I took inventory of the feelings playing out inside me. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t even all that lonely. But I was a little bit restless about my biology assignment. I’d told Patch I wouldn’t call, and six hours ago I’d meant it. All I could think now was that I didn’t want to fail. Biology was my toughest subject. My grade tottered problematically between A and B. In my mind, that was the difference between a full and half scholarship in my future.

    23
    I went to the kitchen and picked up the phone. I looked at what was left of the seven numbers still tattooed on my hand. Secretly I hoped Patch didn’t answer my call. If he was unavailable or unco-operative on assignments, it was evidence I could use against him to convince Coach to undo the seating chart. Feeling hopeful, I keyed in his number.
    Patch answered on the third ring. “What’s up?”
    In a matter-of-fact tone I said, “I’m calling to see if we can meet tonight.
    I know you said you’re busy, but—”
    “Nora.” Patch said my name like it was the punch line to a joke.
    “Thought you weren’t going to call. Ever.”
    I hated that I was eating my words. I hated Patch for rubbing it in. I hated Coach and his deranged assignments. I opened my mouth, hoping something smart would come out. “Well? Can we meet or not?”
    “As it turns out, I can’t.”
    “Can’t, or won’t?”
    “I’m in the middle of a pool game.” I heard the smile in his voice. “An important pool game.”
    From the background noise I heard on his end, I believed he was telling the truth—about the pool game. Whether it was more important than my assignment was up for debate.
    “Where are you?” I asked.
    “Bo’s Arcade. It’s not your kind of hangout.”
    “Then let’s do the interview over the phone. I’ve got a list of questions 24
    right—”
    He hung up on me.
    I stared at the phone in disbelief, then ripped a clean sheet of paper from my notebook. I scribbled Jerk on the first line. On the line beneath it I added, Smokes cigars. Will die of lung cancer. Hopefully soon. Excellent