"L. Lee Lowe - Mortal Ghost" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lowe L Lee)

even distaste.

'You can do better than that,' she said.

'Like what?'

'Like not hiding behind some stupid cliché. Like having a little self-respect. Like dealing with whatever's
happened to you.'

'You know nothing about me.'
Chapter 4 34
'No facts maybe. But I hardly need them to understand it's no life shivering under a bridge in a snowstorm.
Scrounging for your next meal.' Sarah took a breath. 'Scared and cold and hungry. Lonely. Desperate.' She
hesitated, then spoke bitterly. 'Or dead.'

Jesse held up a hand as if to ward off her words. One by one they stung his skin like angry wasps.

'Let's go,' he said, his voice rougher than he'd intended. Quickly he bent to collect their rubbish.
Chapter 5 35

Chapter 5
Tondi's body glistened with sweat, her meagre clothes clinging to her skin. When she offered to lend Jesse her
skateboard, he mumbled his thanks and kept his head low as she came close, too close. Let her think that he
was embarrassed or overcome or whatever. With her board tucked under one arm he approached the ramp.

They wanted to humiliate him, Sarah's friends. They were practised skaters with lots of tricks and
manoeuvres. At the skater plaza he'd watched them first on the concrete flat and ramps, then on the steps and
rails and ledges, now on the half-pipe. All except Tondi, who skated well but kept in the background. The lads
launched themselves from the top of the ramp straight into the air. They hung there, defying gravity, then
twisted and flung themselves right back down. Impossible. Only they did it. No one in his right mind started
there.

'Come on,' called the tallest bloke -- Mick? -- who had gelled blond hair, hot and taunting eyes. 'It's easy, give
it a try.'

Jesse knew it wasn't easy. He wiped his hands on his jeans. He was beginning to be seriously annoyed with
himself. At school he'd learned early on to keep a low profile, not to be drawn into lose-lose situations. What
did he care what these stupid apes thought of him? He raised the board, about to toss it down in contempt.
Sarah would be back any moment now. She'd never expect him to start with the half-pipe.

The sun had slid towards the trees, glazing the leaves with a shiny eggwash of light, as golden as his
grandmother's Easter loaf studded with sultanas and almonds. He could taste Mick's mockery. Reaching into
his pocket, he pulled out the packet of cigarettes that Sarah had bought him. He dropped the board on the
patch of grass in front of him and put his left foot on the deck, testing its spring. It felt comfortable, right.
Jesse lit a cigarette. His mind went back to Sarah's words: stop running.

Sarah rode into sight on Kevin's board, Nubi racing alongside her. Though she'd obviously given it some
practice, she wasn't a skater like these four. Jesse could see that straightaway.

Plait frisking behind her, she swerved through the last curve and came laughing to a sudden halt in front of