The Shape Of My Heart. Ann AguirreЧитать онлайн книгу.

       CHAPTER TWO

      “Where the hell are we going?” I yelled.

      Max didn’t answer, but he turned off the highway, so the going got much rougher, and I tightened my arms around his waist. We bounced along for another mile, following the natural curve of the road. Before I saw the rapids, I heard the rush of the river, audible as the motorcycle dropped to lower idle. He parked the bike and I swung off, unnerved by the complete darkness. Without speaking, he led me through a tangle of branches.

      “If you want to freak me out, it’s working.”

      “Trust me.” His fingers folded around mine, and I clutched tight.

      ∆Out here there was only the fast-moving water, the wind through the leaves and the chirp of insects. When we emerged from the trees, my breath caught. The sky opened up before me in an endless stream of stars with the river cascading below, tumbling over the rocks in a burst of white foam. Moonlight shimmered on the water, a fairy trail luring men to their doom, if you believed in old legends.

      “Wow. How did you find this place?”

      “I drive around at night...a lot.” He wore a contemplative look as he added, “‘It is Earth’s eye—looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature.’”

      “Did you seriously just quote Thoreau?” I didn’t mean to sound so surprised since I knew as well as anyone that Max was smarter than he let on.

      “Are you judging a book by its cover?”

      “Sorry, reflex. Please continue astounding me with your big brain.”

      “No, now you went and made me self-conscious. But just look... It’s amazing, right?”

      I nodded. “Just like you promised.”

      “Come out, just a little farther.” He led me onto a rise overlooking the river. “I sleep out here sometimes.”

      “Nadia’s convinced you’re hooking up or crashing at the garage when you don’t come home.” It was weird saying that to a guy, like we were family or something, but sometimes it actually felt as if we were.

      “The garage office reeks of oil and sweaty ass.”

      “I can see why you’d prefer it here, though I’d probably wet my pants the first time an owl hooted. Is that a thing?”

      “Yes, there are owls here, city girl.”

      “Hey, I was born in Chicago, and my mother is opposed to camping on principle. ‘Our people have wandered the wilderness long enough and from now on, we sleep in warm beds.’”

      “She sounds opinionated.”

      “You have no idea.”

      “Sit down. Unless you’re scared.”

      “No, I’m okay.” Though I wasn’t quite sure why he’d brought me out here, I couldn’t deny that it was beautiful. I plopped down beside him, crossing my legs in a crooked Lotus pose.

      Max let out a shaky breath, staring out at the river. He was careful not to look at me. “I got a call from my dad today.”

      From what I knew of Max—not a whole lot, granted, as he didn’t talk much about his past—that was a huge deal. In the three years we’d been hanging out, he’d never mentioned his family. “Yeah?”

      “My grandfather died.” His tone gave me no clue how to react, and the shadows were too deep for me to read his expression.

      “Okay, so is this a ‘wow, I’m so sorry’ moment, or more ‘thank God the old bastard’s finally gone’? Give me something here, Max.”

      He sat in silence for a few moments. “Little from column A, little from column B. See, I come from a long line of violent assholes. Good drinkers, too, proud, easily offended, even though none of us have ever amounted to shit.”

      “Looks to me like that streak ends with you.” I put my hand on his where it rested on his knee, and he leaned toward me. Not going for a kiss but to rest his head on my shoulder.

      “You always know what to say.” His voice was softer, warmed by my smooth talk.

      “So what’re you doing about the funeral? Do you want me to help you pick out a floral arrangement or something?”

      “No, that’s the thing. I brought you out here, hoping the incredible scenery would make you willing to do me a favor.”

      “What’s that?” He had no pets and no classes yet that I could audit for him and take notes. So I was drawing a blank as to what Max could possibly need from me.

      “I was hoping you’d come home with me. To Providence.”

      “What? Why?” Those were the first of many questions to sputter out of me.

      “I haven’t been back since I went away to school, and I can’t be alone with my dad, not even for a minute. It...won’t be good.”

      I submerged the impulse to ask, Isn’t there anyone else? Because I knew the answer already, and I wouldn’t force-feed him that vulnerability on top of the shit sandwich life had already forced him to sample. But I couldn’t just pack a bag and ride off without some basic fact-finding. “How long will we be gone?”

      “It’s a twelve-hour drive, but we’ll take regular breaks since you aren’t used to a long haul on the bike. I’m guessing five days, including travel.”

      “Wait, we’re taking the motorcycle all the way to Rhode Island?”

      As he turned his head, the moon popped out from behind a cloud, illuminating his smile. “You said we. So I guess so.”

      “If I’m crazy enough to do this, you owe me some insider info on why.”

      “Why?”

      “You know what I’m asking. Why can’t you be polite long enough to put your grandfather in the ground? Or whatever you shegetz boys do.” I spoke the last sentence in a teasing tone.

      Max got out his phone and turned it on, bright enough to startle me, then he pushed back the tumble of black hair, revealing a thin white scar. The screen flickered off, leaving me with the impression of his tan skin, dark eyes and the mark in sharp contrast. “I got that from my dad when I was eleven. Beer bottle. He chucked it, I didn’t duck in time.”

      “Damn.”

      “It’s not the only childhood souvenir.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “But that’s not why I can’t forgive him.”

      “What happened?”

      “Right now, I need an answer. Will you come?”

      Angus and I didn’t have jobs, unlike Max and Nadia. Even if they disapproved of me, my parents still sent a regular allowance and paid my tuition. So there was no reason I couldn’t go to Providence with him; I just wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Some intuitive part of my brain sensed that it would change everything.

      “Okay,” I said.

      “Thanks so much, Kaufman. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

      “Because you don’t want to miss the services?”

      Max shook his head. “My brother will be there.”

      Before I could ask, he pushed to his feet, dusted off his ass and offered his hand. I took it and let him tow me upright. We retraced our steps back to the bike as I pondered how bad this was likely to be. My family might not be perfect, but nothing like this; it was only a matter of me refusing to conform to expectations,