分节阅读_77

  ged. it thrilled with the same electricity
  that had charged the afternoon, aurlessly,
  waki was only in the early hours that i
  finally sank ied, dreamless sleep.
  as still tired, but edgy as well. i pulled on my brown
  turtlehe inescapable jeans, sighing as i daydreamed of
  spaghetti straps and shorts. breakfast was the usual, quiet event i
  expected. charlie fried eggs for himself; i had my bowl of cereal. i
  wondered if he had fotten about this saturday. he answered my unspoken
  questioood up to take his plate to the sink.
  ”about this saturday…” he began, walking across the kitd turning
  o.
  i ged. ”yes, dad?”
  ”are you still set on goile?” he asked.
  ”that lan.” i grimaced, wishing he hadn't brought it up so i
  wouldn't have to pose careful half-truths.
  he squeezed some dish soap onto his plate a around with the
  brush. ”and you're sure you 't make it ba time for the dance?”
  ”i'm not going to the dance, dad.” i glared.
  ”didn't anyone ask you?” he asked, trying to hide his by fog
  the plate.
  i sidestepped the mi's a girl's choice.”
  ”oh.” he frowned as he dried his plate.
  i sympathized with him. it must be a hard thiher; living
  i yhter would meet a boy she liked, but also having to
  worry if she didn't. how ghastly it would be, i thought, shuddering, if
  charlie had eveest inklily what i did like.
  charlie left then, with a goodbye wave, aairs to brush my
  teeth and gather my books. whehe cruiser pull away, i could
  only wait a few seds before i had to peek out of my window. the silver
  car was already there, waiting in charlie's spot on the driveway. i
  bouhe stairs a do how long this
  bizarre routine would ue. i ed it to end.
  he waited i appearing to watch as i shut the door behind me
  with to lock the dead-bolt. i walked t
  shyly bef the door and stepping in. he was smiling, relaxed —
  and, as usual, perfed beautiful t degree.
  ”g.” his voice was silky. ”how are you today?” his eyes roamed
  over my face, as if his questiohihaesy.
  ”good, thank you.” i was always good — much mood — when i was
  near him.
  his gaze lihe der my eyes. ”you look tired.”
  ”i 't sleep,” i fessed, automatiging my hair around my
  shoulder to provide some measure of cover.
  ”her could i,” he teased as he started the engine. i was being
  used to the quiet purr. i was sure the roar of my truck would scare me,
  wheain.
  i laughed. ”i guess that's right. i suppose i slept just a little bit
  more than you did.”
  ”i'd wager you did.”
  ”so what did you do last night?” i asked.
  he chuot a ce. it's my day to ask questions.”
  ”oh, that's right. what do you want to know?” my forehead creased. i
  't imagihing about me that could be in any way iing
  to him.
  ”what's your favorite color?” he asked, his face grave.
  i rolled my eyes. ”it ges from day to day.”
  ”what's your favorite color today?” he was still solemn.
  ”probably browo dress ag to my mood.
  he sn his serious expression. ”brown?” he asked
  skeptically.
  ”sure. brown is warm. i miss br that's supposed to be
  browrunks, rocks, dirt — is all covered up with squashy green
  stuff here,” i plained.
  he seemed fasated by my little rant. he sidered for a moment,
  staring into my eyes.
  ”yht,” he decided, serious again. ”brown is warm.” he reached
  over, swiftly, but somehow still hesitantly, to sweep my hair bad
  my shoulder.