Read The Last Song for Free Online Page A

there.”
    “And?”
    “You seemed out of place.”
    “So do you.”
    “Which is why I was standing on the pier.” She hopped up onto the railing and took a seat, facing Ronnie. “I know you don’t
     want to be here, but what did your dad do to make you so mad?”
    Ronnie wiped her palms on her pants. “It’s a long story.”
    “Does he live with his girlfriend?”
    “I don’t think he has a girlfriend. Why?”
    “Consider yourself lucky.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “My dad lives with his girlfriend. This is his third one since the divorce, by the way, and she’s the worst by far. She’s
     only a few years older than I am and she dresses like a stripper. For all I know, she was a stripper. It makes me sick every
     time I have to go there. It’s like she doesn’t know how to act around me. One minute she tries to give me advice like she’s
     my mom, and the next minute she’s trying to be my best friend. I hate her.”
    “And you live with your mom?”
    “Yeah. But now she has a boyfriend, and he’s at the house all the time. And he’s a loser, too. He wears this ridiculous toupee
     because he went bald when he was like twenty or something, and he’s always telling me that I want to think about giving college
     a try. Like I care what he thinks. It’s just all screwed up, you know?”
    Before Ronnie could answer, Blaze jumped back down. “C’mon. I think they’re getting ready to start. You’ve got to see this.”
    Ronnie followed Blaze back up the pier, toward a crowd surrounding what seemed to be a street show. Startled, she realized
     that the performers were the three thuggish guys she’d spotted earlier. Two of them were break-dancing to music blaring from
     the boom box, while the one with long black hair stood in the center juggling what seemed to be flaming golf balls. Every
     now and then he would stop juggling and simply hold the ball, rotating it between his fingers or rolling it across the back
     of his hand or up one arm and down the other. Twice, he closed his fist over the fireball, nearly extinguishing it, only to
     move his hand, allowing the flames to escape out the tiny opening near his thumb.
    “Do you know him?” Ronnie said.
    Blaze nodded. “That’s Marcus.”
    “Is he wearing some sort of protective coating on his hands?”
    “No.”
    “Doesn’t it hurt?”
    “Not if you hold the fireball right. It’s awesome, though, isn’t it?”
    Ronnie had to agree. Marcus extinguished two of the balls and then relit them again by touching them to the third. On the
     ground lay an upturned magician’s hat, and Ronnie watched as people began tossing money into it.
    “Where does he get the fireballs?”
    “He makes them. I can show you how. It’s not hard. All you need is a cotton T-shirt, needle and thread, and some lighter fluid.”
    As the music continued to blare, Marcus tossed the three fireballs to the guy with the Mohawk and lit two more. They juggled
     them back and forth between each other like circus clowns using bowling pins, faster and faster, until one throw went awry.
    Except that it didn’t. The guy with the pierced eyebrow caught it soccer-ball style and began bouncing it from foot to foot
     as though it were nothing more than a Hacky Sack. After extinguishing three of the fireballs, the other two followed suit,
     the entire troupe kicking the two fireballs back and forth between them. The crowd started to clap, and money rained into
     the hat as the music built to a crescendo. Then all at once, the remaining fireballs were caught and extinguished simultaneously
     as the song thundered to a close.
    Ronnie had to admit she’d never seen anything like it. Marcus walked over to Blaze and folded her into a long, lingering kiss
     that seemed wildly inappropriate in public. He opened his eyes slowly, staring right at Ronnie before he pushed Blaze away.
    “Who’s that?” he asked, motioning in Ronnie’s direction.
    “That’s Ronnie,” Blaze