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Fallout (Crank 3)

Page 147

by Ellen Hopkins

understand. You and Matt

are finished, right? He sounds

mean, but his eyes are pleading.

“I love you, Kyle. Not Matt.

I could never be with him

again.” His grip does not

loosen, so I quickly add,

“But my knees are killing me.”

Everything about him relaxes,

and he laughs. Why didn’t you

say so? As I slide to one side,

he suddenly gets the picture. Gain

an amazing girl. Lose a best friend.

THAT MAKES HIM WANT

A cigarette. He reaches into

the glove box for a pack

of Marlboros. Want one?

I shake my head. “Don’t

smoke. It’s seriously

bad for my asthma.”

He looks at the cigarette

he’s about to light up.

Asthma? Does he think

it’s a test? “Yeah. But go

ahead if you need to.

Not like it’s anything new.”

He thinks about it for

a second or two. Put your

shirt on. Let’s take a walk.

It’s a brisk fifty degrees