The Face Read Free Page B

spun the wheel hard.
    â€œI can’t take it!” His words a wail of pain, shouted over the roar of the engine.
    The car squealed, tires scraped as he floored the gas pedal.
    Spun the wheel. Spun the car.
    Spun us.
    Spun us around.
    And aimed.
    Screaming the whole time. Screaming out the pain from deep inside him.
    Screaming as we spun.
    I covered my eyes as the enormous black trunk of a tree loomed in the headlights. Ivan was heading us toward it.
    Ivan is trying to kill us.
    My last thought. My last thought on earth.

chapter 4
    â€œO
h!” My head hit the roof hard as we bounced over the curb. A shock of pain shuddered down my body.
    We bounced again. And again.
    And slowed to a stop.
    I uncovered my eyes.
    My hands shook. My whole body trembled.
    I gasped for breath, trying to slow my pounding heart. I rubbed my head, still throbbing in pain.
    â€œIvan—”
    â€œI’ sorry, Martha!” he cried.
    â€œWe’re alive,” I murmured. The words tumbled out. I wasn’t thinking clearly. It was all still a blur. A dark, bouncing blur.
    â€œWe’re alive, Ivan.”
    â€œI’m so sorry.” A sob escaped his throat.
    And without realizing it, I had turned. And I was holding him. Holding him in my arms. Feeling his body shake beneath his leather coat.
    â€œWe’re alive.”
    â€œI turned the wheel. I—I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go through with it,” he stammered.
    I held him tightly, pressing my cheek against his. “We’re alive. We’re alive.” I couldn’t stop chanting it.
    â€œI wasn’t really going to do it,” Ivan murmured, his voice shaking. “Not really. I wouldn’t do it.”
    I could feel him start to calm down. If only my heart would slip down from
my
throat!
    â€œI’m okay,” he said abruptly, almost coldly.
    He pushed me away. “I’m okay now, Martha. Really.”
    I slumped back into my seat and glanced out the window. We were in the middle of someone’s front yard. A porchlight cast yellow light over the front door. But the house was dark.
    â€œIvan, maybe you shouldn’t drive,” I managed to choke out.
    â€œI’m okay now. Really. I’m fine. I’m fine.”
    A hard, cold look tightened his handsome face. He narrowed his eyes. Stone-faced now. As if he were fighting away all feelings.
    He slammed the car into Reverse, and we bounced back onto the street.
    His face remained frozen in that cold stare as he drove me home.
    He didn’t say another word.
    â€œYour brother is really messed up,” I told Adriana.
    It was Saturday afternoon, and we were up in my room. A gray February afternoon. Dark clouds threatening snow.
    I had the window open despite the cold. My room is always hot. The cool air felt good. A strong breeze fluttered the curtains.
    â€œHuh?” Adriana sat at my dressing table, trying out blusher and lip gloss and other stuff from a new makeup kit my mom had given me. “This is too pale for me, don’t you think?”
    I cleared off my desk and set down a large drawing pad. I planned to sketch this afternoon. Some self-portraits maybe. Adriana’s visit was a surprise.
    She seemed bored. Kind of restless.
    I kept saying things, but she only half-heard me. I wondered what was really on her mind. But I didn’t really feel like asking her.
    â€œIvan is not in good shape,” I repeated. “Yesterday afternoon—”
    â€œWho
is
in good shape?” Adriana interrupted bitterly. She pulled out a handful of tissues and started wiping the blusher off her cheek. “I have such dark skin. This just doesn’t work.”
    I turned and studied her reflection in the mirror. “You look kind of tired,” I said.
    â€œI still can’t sleep.” She shook her head. Started to apply a shiny lip gloss onto her full lips. A gust of wind fluttered her dark, curly hair.
    â€œIvan said you went to a