Read Online Random by Tom Leveen - Free Book Online

phone back up.
    â€œSorry, I had to . . . deal with my brother. What’d you say?”
    â€œI said, you’re still typing,” Andy says.
    â€œListen,” I say, “you have my full attention, I swear to God. I just . . . I’m taking notes, okay?”
    â€œNotes? I’m not giving a pop quiz after this.”
    â€œNotes on everything you’re saying, everything I’m saying. I have to cover my ass here. I hope you understand that.”
    Andy’s voice gets suspicious. “Cover your ass, how?”
    At that, I get pissed. I stand up from the carpet and damn near throw the phone right through my door and into the kitchen.
    Which, oddly, reminds me suddenly that I’m actually hungry. I check the time. 1:38 a.m. You know what sounds good right now? Steak. A steak burrito, never mind chicken. Steak burrito with everything. There’s a twenty-four-hour Mexican food place a few blocks from here. If only my parents would let me drive again. If only it weren’t after one thirty in the morning.
    If only I weren’t on the phone with a suicidal freak show.
    â€œI’m covering my ass in case I wake up tomorrow morning and find out some dude drove his car off a cliff and I was the last person to talk to him!” I whisper in a way that sounds very much like screaming.
    Andy’s quiet. Still there, I’m sure. But quiet.
    â€œThis is stupid,” he whispers finally.
    I rub my eyes. “No, no, you’re not stupid, come on.”
    â€œ This is stupid. I didn’t say I was stupid.”
    â€œWell, either way.”
    â€œI shouldn’t have called you. That was the stupid thing. I’m sorry. I should—”
    â€œYou woulda done it already,” I blurt.
    Another silence.
    Oh, God. No, no, no, Tori, you complete idiot. . . .
    â€œWhat?” Andy says. He sounds pissed now. Pissed, or maybe shocked.
    I try to swallow but only choke on air. “You don’t want to commit . . . you know. Do this. You would’ve already done it if you really wanted to. You know?”
    I hear him snort. It reminds me of Jack. Which irritates me.
    â€œYou don’t know anything about me,” Andy says.
    I can hear Jack’s voice in my head. Stay up with him. All night if you have to. Things will look better when the sun comes up. “Okay, so, tell me,” I say. “I’m here. I’m listening.”
    â€œNo, you’re not, you’re blogging.”
    â€œI’m not blogging,” I say. “I’m just . . . writing some stuff down, is all.”
    â€œStuff about me?”
    â€œBoth of us. I just told you.”
    â€œWell. I’m flattered.”
    It occurs to me that I’ve actually got the right idea: I should be keeping a record of this in case something bad happens to Andy. Document everything , Mr. Halpern said. Even if you don’t think it’s important, document everything. When the bricksmashed Mom’s car window, Mr. Halpern made us all write down what we knew about it. Which wasn’t much. Probably whoever threw it picked Mom’s car because it was parked on the street and was easier to hit. It could have been anyone’s car. All that mattered was that it was in front of my house.
    The chat with Noah will be archived automatically, so that’s something. Plus, my phone and Andy’s phone will show that he called me first, proof I didn’t initiate contact. That might be important if he—
    You know.
    â€œI get it,” Andy goes on. “It’s okay. Keeping a record probably makes sense. I guess I’m really screwing up your night, huh?”
    â€œYou could say that.”
    When Andy laughs, it catches me completely off guard. This guy’s mood has more swings than a playground. That’s probably not a sign of good mental health.
    â€œI really am pissing you off, aren’t I,” he says.
    Would a