Fathom by L. Standage (spanish books to read .TXT) 📕

we walked back. Huddled in our protective group of surfer boys who smelled like fish, we didn’t see any sign of the creepy stalker. Everything appeared normal—no unfamiliar cars parked on the street and no other suspicious characters. I unlocked the door. Sam went inside.

“Couldn’t we come for a little while?” Cooper whined at me. Yeah right, I wasn’t letting three strange idiots into my aunt’s house.

“No,” I said, then backtracked. “I mean, thanks for walking us home, but we’ll be okay now.” I shut the door and turned the deadbolt. Sam stood in the living room, rubbing her arms and frowning at the door.

“Why would someone want to follow us?” she asked, ignoring the fact that I had just barred a group of surfer guys from the house. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I don’t know.” I walked past her and into the kitchen. Then, the memory of my first night in San Diego surfaced in my brain. I thought I’d escaped any consequences. Had I been wrong? Had it caught up to me?

“Should we call someone? Your aunt? The police?”

“No. We don’t need to make a big deal about it unless he comes back.”

“Liv, he was chasing us down. He wasn’t just some lowlife wanting to pick our purses. He was after us.” She looked on the verge of tears. Sam’s turn to come unglued. Usually, I had the freak outs and she talked me down. I didn’t realize how much I hated the role reversal until I felt powerless to fix it. Should I tell her what happened at the tide pools that night? It might just scare her even more.

“It’s going to be fine,” I said, spreading my hands as though to fan away the anxiety. “If we do see him again, we’ll call the police.”

Sam looked out the kitchen window, to where Cooper, Jason, and Pete walked back down the street, punching each other and laughing.

“Think we should have let them stay?” she asked as she watched them.

“We’ll be okay. And we really don’t know them that well.”

“Yeah.”

“Ugh, I just wish we could have found that Scottish guy.” I gripped my hair in frustration. “Maybe we’d be getting some answers to all this.”

“Do you think the scary guy had anything to do with the red-headed lady dying?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was just a coincidence.”

“What if it’s not? What if that creeper has been watching us for a long time?”

The thought had occurred to me too. I took a deep breath.

“We’re not even sure the red-headed lady is the one we saw at the crime scene. What we’ll do is lock the house up tight and lay low for a while. No one comes in or out until all of this blows over.”

I just hoped it would blow over.

The afternoon ended up a tedious one, thank goodness. An endless stream of chick flicks and bowl after bowl of popcorn occupied us. But in between the cheesy actors’ lines on the screen, I couldn’t help watching every window as the sky outside grew dark.

Sam laughed at a character from the movie, whose vacant expression exasperated his female costar.

“That guy reminds me of Cooper,” she said.

“Do you really like him all that much?” I asked, crunching a mouthful of popcorn.

She shrugged. “He’s okay, I guess.”

I hesitated. She wouldn’t want to hear this. “You probably shouldn’t lead him on then.”

“I’m not, I promise.” She raised her brows with sincerity. “We’re just friends.” She sighed. “I know I need to quit doing this. I know it’s stupid.”

“There’s nothing wrong with flirting. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Sam played with the popcorn in the bowl. “I know. I guess I’m sort of impatient to find one different from all the others. I’m tired of meeting the same kind of guy all the time. I thought maybe there’d be a better variety in California.”

“A ‘better variety?’” I laughed. “What kind of variety do you think you’ll get when you go after the same kind of guy every time?”

“Shut up. I can’t help it if I know what I like. And you’ve made eyes at Hottie McScottie every time we’ve seen him.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not blind. I notice if a guy is good looking. And yeah, sometimes I miss the whole flirt-and-chase thing. You look like you’re having so much fun. It’s just…” I paused.

“You’re scared,” said Sam. I shrugged. She frowned. “Afraid of Landon-the-sequel.”

“It’s not just that. Every guy I’ve ever been really close to has ripped my life apart. First Landon. Then my dad.”

“Your dad didn’t rip your life apart. People fall out of love. It happens.”

“Easy for you to say. Your dad left forever ago.”

“Oh, really? Thanks, I’d forgotten,” she said with a sting in her words.

I closed my mouth, feeling like a jerk. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

“Look, Liv,” said Sam. “I’m not talking about finding a soul mate. I’m talking about taking a few chances. Having some courage to let people in.”

“I don’t need anyone else right now,” I said, though I knew it wasn’t completely true. “I’m fine. Life is easier for me when I’m not always on the hunt.”

“Maybe, but it’s less fun too.” She put the bowl of popcorn down and stood. “You want anything to drink?”

“I’m good.” I reached for more popcorn, trying to pay attention to the plot instead of to my freshly bleeding heart, while she went to the kitchen.

A knock sounded at the front door. I stopped crunching on popcorn. Sam turned back to me. We both looked at the door. I turned off the TV.

“Stay here,” I said. I got up, walked to the front entryway, and peeked through the curtain. Three people stood on our patio. One of them wore a gray polo shirt—was that the same man from the crime scene earlier that day? He had the same sandy, combed hair and a long face. It had to be him.

Sam whispered behind me: “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. But