Read Playing Keira for Free Online Page A

again, this time making sure I have the light, but he grabs me again.
    “Wait!”
    I step back from the curb, but don’t look at him. I try to ignore the feeling of his grip on my wrist. He hasn’t let go.
    “Keira, I have to know something.” His voice is unsure now, a little guilty. “Are you really going to see your mom?”
    “Yes.”
    “You’ve been seeing her regularly since she left, right?”
    “No.”
    Garrett catches his breath. He knows this is a big deal. Not because we have an intimate relationship, but because he’s seen it in a documentary film.
    “Let me walk you there,” he says, his voice more assured. “You’ll need the support.”
    “You’re just curious to see how the story continues.”
    “Don’t insult me,” he says, and it’s that pleading edge that gives me the courage to actually meet his glance now. It’s one of concern. For some reason, this hurts me.
    “What about Mary-Kate?” I ask.
    “I can meet her later. It’s fine.” Our eyes lock and my skin blazes where his fingers circle my wrist. I should run screaming, but my feet don’t move.
    Truth is, I would love the company. Now that Garrett knows the full story—the surface of it, at least—I would like him to know the rest. Where I’ve come from today and who I’ve hurt, and then how it unfolds. But even if he were someone I knew well, like Nate, I would still need to do it alone. Whatever happens, I need to be concerned with only myself, and not how anyone is witnessing what’s happening.
    “No,” I say. “I mean, thank you, but I’ll be okay. I want to go on my own.”
    “Can I at least walk you there?” he asks.
    “It’s not far. I could use the time to clear my head.”
    “Are you sure? Are you sure you’re okay?”
    I nod. I’m lying again, because I’m not sure. Garrett takes out the Sudoku book and pulls out the pencil, then writes his number and email address on the puzzle we’ve been working on. He tears it off, folds it neatly in half, and hands it to me.
    “Be in touch with me,” he says, his eyes intense. I nod again, and this nod could be a lie or it could be the truth. I like the fact that I can decide later.
    “Good luck,” says Garrett. He opens his arms and I lean into him, and now his arms are closing around me. The pressure of his hands on my back. The jab of his chin on my collarbone. The warmth of his body, fanning the flames in mine.
    Before I can think of all the reasons not to, I wrap my arms around him and do what he is doing to me—press my palms against his back. We stay like that and my body counts off one, two, three seconds. This is where I usually break away. In fact, Nate is so used to me doing this, he’s become the one to separate first. Here, though, I let the count get to four. Then five, and six. I am not pulling free. Why aren’t I pulling free?
    Finally, Garrett releases me but keeps his hands on my shoulders.
    “I don’t know what to say here,” he says. “Good luck? Be strong?”
    “How about ‘Don’t hurl’?” I say, and we both laugh.
    “You’re going to be fine,” he says. His phone chirps and we both know that’s got to be Mary-Kate, wondering where he is. He gives me an apologetic glance and drops his hands, but doesn’t reach for his phone. “’Bye, Keira.”
    “’Bye, Garrett.”
    Garrett smiles and hangs his head before turning around, stepping away from me. The light is green and he starts to cross the street; he’s going east and I’m continuing north. Once he gets to the other side, he looks back and waves again, then keeps walking.
    I watch him move down the block, growing smaller. Less real. I keep my eyes on him, as if that might prevent him from disappearing, but eventually, he does.
    I cross in my direction now—checking the light again, yes, of course. I’m pretty sure I can still feel my skin pulse where Garrett’s hands touched it.
    I’ve got about ten blocks to go, and here comes that rush again: there’s no