"Pike, Christopher - Whisper Of Death.(1991)TXT" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pike Christopher)

glad the city architects had put Salem High at the edge
of town, and not in the center. Downtown Salem was
about as exciting as an empty movie theater. Things
may have been happening in town, but hardly anyone
was there to acknowledge the fact. Even before the
transformation, Salem felt barren.

Pepper suddenly appeared, standing above me with
his thumbs hooked into the back pockets of his Levi
505s. He was trying to look cool, and not doing a bad
job of it. He was too handsome. By that I mean I
wasn't given any chance to dislike him. Everything
that happened between us had to be. It was inevitable.
His hair was brown and messy. He needed a shave.
His eyes were as dark as blue prairie grass before a
storm. He had a body, every guy does, but his fit him
better than most. But I didn't smile at him, not right
away. I was cool, too.

"Hey, Roxanne," he said, then paused. "That is
your name?"

"It had better be." I had to shield my eyes to look at
him. He had the sun behind him, which I think was a
strategic move on his part. "What do you want?"

"Got a cigarette?"

"I don't smoke," I said.

"I've seen you smoke."

"When?"

"At the park, at night."

"Those weren't cigarettes," I said.

"To each his own. I'm a beer man myself."

I shrugged, going back to my Honey Bun. "I get
loaded once in a blue moon." I took a bite of my bun.
"And every Tuesday."

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked, not waiting for my
permission to share the rock. At least now I didn't
have to blind myself to look at him. "What's so special
about Tuesdays?" he asked.

"Tuesday means Monday's over."