Winter (Four Seasons #1) Read Free

partner
shrugs, completely unaffected. “Whatever you say, man.” He stomps
up the steps, one hand on the hilt of his night stick like he’s
planning on making use of it any second now. Cheering blares out
into the night again as he lets himself inside. Luke rubs at the
back of his neck, staring at my feet.
    “ So, uh,
you’re tearing up the place, huh? We’ve had five phone calls about
loud music and disturbance at this address.”
    I look back at
the house, seeing all the drunk people, painted green, laughing and
swigging back beer inside. It doesn’t look great that I’m stumbling
out of the building, especially since those girls a moment ago
weren’t the only ones not old enough to be drinking. “We were just
leaving, too, actually.”
    “ Oh.” Luke
stares at me for a moment, his dark eyebrows twitching like he
wants to frown. “Hey, why don’t you guys wait until we’re done
here? This’ll only take a second. I’d really like to talk to you,
Iri—” He breaks off, and I catch the hurt look in his eye. He
doesn’t know what to call me.
    “ Avery,” I say
quietly.
    “ Avery.” He
nods. “It’s nice. I’ll get used to it.”
    I send him a
faintly apologetic smile and clear my throat. “We’re in a rush to
get home. I have to be up real early. Could we catch up another
time?”
    The radio over
Luke’s breast pocket squeals, making Morgan jump out of her skin.
Static fills the air for a second before Luke leans down and speaks
into it.
    “ Unit 23
responding to noise complaint. Copy.” He looks torn as he allows
another couple of girls to skitter off down the street. “I really
have to sort this out. Can I call you tomorrow?”
    Morgan’s
fingernails dig into my arm. What the hell is her problem?
“Tomorrow’s fine. I have to study for my midterms, but
yeah…”
    “ Okay,
tomorrow. Write down your number.” He hands me his notebook, which
has his police number and an embossed golden badge on the front. I
flip it open, looking up to find him watching me as I quickly
scribble down my cell phone number. I give it back and he purses
his lips. “Thanks.”
    We pass on the
steps as Morgan and I descended and he goes up, and I see that look
in his eye that always makes me dread our ‘catch ups’. It’s pity. I
hate being looked at like that. As Morgan and I make our way back
towards campus, I wish I’d been sober or smart enough to write down
the wrong number.
     

Two
    Rosito’s
     
     
     
    MORGAN MAKES
me run the next morning. Running and I aren’t even vaguely
acquainted let alone best friends, so it takes a few strongly
worded threats and the promise of chocolate waffles to get me out
the door at six am. It’s bitterly cold, the morning air determined
to freeze my lungs from the inside out. We last all of twenty
minutes before the temperature gets the better of us and we head to
Jacquie’s Breakfast Diner.
    “ You realize,”
I say, sliding into the booth opposite Morgan, “that ordering
pancakes with a ton of maple syrup is going to make your ass
fat?”
    “ It’s already
fat,” she announces.
    “ It really
is,” I agree. “I was trying to be polite, but damn you need to
start eating right. I’ve never seen an ass that big.”
    “ Bitch!” she
laughs, slapping my arm with the menu.
    “ You deserve
it.”
    “ I know,” she
sighs. “So, we going to put it off much longer?”
    I squint at
her, trying to ascertain whether there’s any point in pretending I
don’t know what she’s talking about. It’s not every morning she
shows up on my doorstep demanding exercise. This is all subterfuge,
and I know what she’s after. Her jaw is set, which means I am shit
outta luck. “He’s just a guy I used to know back home,” I tell
her.
    “ And?”
    “ And
nothing.”
    “ Don’t give me
that, Iris ,”
Morgan quips. “I know there’s a whole freakin’ well of gossip here
and you’ve been holding out on me.”
    My face
blanches at her use of my real name. I