Read Monument 14: Savage Drift (Monument 14 Series) for Free Online

you, Chloe. We’re all family now. For real. Not ‘just a saying.’”
    She shrugged. “Whatevs.”
    Sahalia came up with her tray and I watched the smile hit Alex’s face. It was bright, unprotected.
    Aaah. Made me nervous for him. Sahalia’s not always been the most dependable person.
    But the wattage on her smile equaled his. That was good. Very good.
    “Dean,” Max said, pushing a piece of paper toward me. “Can you concentrate a story for me?”
    “How do you mean, concentrate?”
    “Well,” Max began. “This one time I asked my mom to write down a letter to my uncle Mack who was in the pen, doing five to ten for salting batteries. I wanted to tell him about how I was sitting out in the car at Emerald’s, waiting on my dad because he had some business arrangements to straighten out and I wasn’t allowed to go in there anymore on account of all the G-strings.
    “Anyway I was just sitting there, doing my multiplication tables homework when a cop car glides in, real quiet.
    “And I see a cop get out, walking over to a car that’s way over at the end of the parking lot and he’s moving real slow and suddenly he opens the door and an actual lady, a mom I actually knew, fell right out on the asphalt. It was my used-to-be best friend Channing’s mom and she didn’t have any pants on!”
    Sahalia laughed out loud and then buried her face against Alex’s shoulder.
    Max continued.
    “It turned out Channing’s mom was doing lap dances on the side. And that’s illegal! So she got arrested into the cop car and the man she was sitting on was, too.”
    “Oh boy,” said Mrs. McKinley.
    “What’s a lap dance?” Henry asked.
    “Max, sweetie, I’m not sure this story is for little ears,” Mrs. McKinley said.
    I wanted to tell her that Max’s stories never are, but he held up his hand, holding her off, and barreled on.
    “So anyways, I wanted to tell all that, about what I saw to my uncle Mack, because he used to hang around Channing’s mom a lot and sometimes buy her things like baby diapers and stuff when she ran out. So I told that whole story to my mom and she was supposed to be writing it down and she only wrote one sentence on the paper. And I said to her, ‘Mom, why didn’t you write down my story?’ and she says, ‘I did, hun. I just concentrated it.’”
    “What did she write, your mom?” asked Henry.
    “She just wrote, ‘Natalia Fiore got arrested for prostitution.’”
    He shrugged.
    “Huh,” I said. “And what story did you want me to concentrate?”
    “The story of what happened to us!” Max said. “So Batiste will remember us.”
    He tapped the paper, like I should get to work.
    I looked at him, his blue eyes sparkling and ready to roll.
    “You know what, Max? That would take me a really long time to write.”
    “You’re a good writer. It won’t take too long.”
    “How do you know I’m a good writer?”
    “You better be. You write in your journal every day!” Max exclaimed.
    “Hey, do you write about me in your journal?” Chloe demanded.
    “I do,” I told her.
    “Do you write good stuff or bad stuff?” she asked, her mouth set in an expectant curl.
    “About you? Only good.”
    “Will we be in the story, too?” Caroline wanted to know.
    “I’m sure you’ll all be in the story,” Mrs. McKinley said. She kissed Caroline on the top of the head. “Now it’s time to put the markers and papers away and go get our trays.”
    *   *   *
    Back in Tent J, I handed Astrid the meatloaf-on-a-roll sandwich I’d managed to smuggle out under my sweatshirt.
    Watching her face light up was worth the glaze stain I now had on the inside of my shirt.
    “Mmm,” she said, digging in. “Thanks.”
    I handed her the apple I’d pocketed as well.
    “Apple a day…,” I said.
    Slightly lame, but I wasn’t entirely sure where I stood with her.
    “I’m sorry about me and Jake,” I apologized. “I know it drives you crazy when we fight like that.”
    She waved it away