The Bone House Read Free Page A

his grasp. He ran a hand back across
his short hair in frustration. 'I'm not going to leave you out here by
yourself,' he said.
        'So
don't leave. Stay. I like being here with you.'
        'It's
late. You should be in bed.'
        Glory
grinned and stuck out her tongue at him. 'See, I knew that's what you wanted.'
        'You're
drunk. I don't want you hurting yourself.'
        She
hummed again. The same Billy Joel song. 'Tresa saw you on Friday, you know.'
        'What?'
        'She
saw you and Hilary in the auditorium. That's why she choked. She was really
upset. She couldn't concentrate knowing you were there.'
        'Not
winning isn't the end of the world.'
        'Yeah.
I know.' Glory didn't look distressed by Tresa's failure. Her face had a
drunken brightness to it, as if she was drowning her sorrows. 'Hey, I read a
poem once that said the world would end in fire.'
        'Robert
Frost,' he said.
        'You
know it? Oh, yeah, duh, English teacher.' She looked at him like a broken toy.
'I mean, you used to be. Tresa felt bad about what happened.'
        'Let's
go, Glory.'
        'Tresa
never thought they would do anything like that.'
        'We
should get back to the hotel.' He put his hand out.
        Glory
took his hand in hers, but then she slid a damp arm around his waist. Her face
came up to his neck. She tilted her chin toward him. Her breath smelled of
alcohol, and her white teeth were stained darker by the wine. 'Kiss me.'
        He
reached round to his back to disentangle himself. He looked over his shoulder
toward the hotel again and felt an uncomfortable sensation, as if he was being
watched from the darkness. Or maybe someone was testing him.
        'Stop
it.'
        'Tresa
says your lips are soft,' Glory whispered.
        Mark
pried her hands away from his body. He took an urgent, awkward step backward in
the sand to separate himself. When Glory reached out to hold him, she was too
far away, and she stumbled and sank to her knees. Her stringy brown hair fell
across her face. Her skin was pale, and he saw disorientation in her eyes.
        'Are
you OK?' he asked.
        Glory
didn't say anything.
        He squatted
in front of her. 'Glory?'
        She
looked up at him. Tears streaked down her face. She wiped her nose with the
back of her hand. On her knees, crying, she looked like a pretty, lost girl
again. A typical teenager with blemishes on her forehead. A kid pretending to
be an adult. He reached to touch her shoulder but pulled his hand back, as if
her skin would be on fire.
        'What's
wrong?' he asked. 'Why are you out here by yourself?'
        'I
don't want to go home,' she said.
        'Why
not?'
        She shook
her head. 'I don't know what to do.'
        Mark
started to press her for details, but he realized he was letting himself get
sucked into this girl's life and problems. That had always been his weakness.
He was a fixer.
        'I'll
take you back to the hotel,' he murmured. He took her elbow and helped her to
her feet. Her legs were rubbery, and she grabbed him for balance, clinging to
his neck so tightly that her nails dug into his skin. He guided her into the
dry sand with an arm around her waist, but she yanked free and skipped
unsteadily back into the water. Trails of sand clung to her knees and thighs.
She held her arms out to him.
        'Let's
swim,' she said.
        'I
don't think so.'
        'One
quick swim, then we'll go.'
        'No.'
        'Oh,
come on.' She was a coquette again. Her moods changed like clouds passing over
the moon. 'I won't bite. Unless you're into that.'
        'Get
out of the water,' he told her sternly. 'You're drunk. You could hurt
yourself.'
        'I
think you're afraid of me,' she said. 'You want me.'
        'Stop
playing games, Glory.'
        'You
think I'm too young, but I'm not.'
        'What
are you, sixteen?'
        'So
what? All the parts