BooksBarbecue
Back Any Way the Wind Blows
Chapters (100)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. EPILOGUE
  96. AGATHA
  97. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  98. Also by Rainbow Rowell
  99. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  100. Newsletter Sign-up

“I think I want to kick around London for a while. Who knows when I’ll get back?” He’s smiling at me again. With his eyes, as well. I decide to be slightly affected. This is sort of a special occasion.

“Shepard,” I say, “I’m sorry I brought you here—”

“Hey. Stop. We’ve been through this. It was an adventure, and you know how I feel about those.” He puts his hands in his jacket pockets. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He pulls two pieces of yellow chalk out of his pocket and holds them out to me. “I saved these from Chalkmageddon. Seemed like you might want them later.”

I look down at the chalk.

Then back at up at Shepard.

I grab his hand.

“Wow,” he says, “you really want to break this chalk.”

“Shepard—wait.”

He looks down at me, his tongue on his bottom lip, like he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. I could try to tell him, but it would take a while.

“You don’t have to leave yet,” I say. “So, we, um—Well, we may as well see if we can make some progress.”

“Progress,” he repeats.

“On your … situation.”

His voice is kind: “Penelope, you already tried.”

“No,” I insist. “I didn’t. I asked my mum. And then I waited for Simon and Baz. Look, I can’t fix this by myself, but I can maybe help you sort a few things out—maybe something that will come of use later.”

Shepard nods. Carefully. “I mean, I’ll take any help I can get…”

“Right.” I close my fingers around the chalk in his palm, then pull my hand away. “Go on then. Sit. And take off your jacket—it’s hot in here.” I look at my blank blackboard. “Right,” I say again. “Let’s start at the beginning. You still haven’t actually told me what happened.”

Shepard is sitting on my sofa, taking off his jacket. “I told you I was cursed by a demon.”

I turn back to him. “You haven’t told me in any detail.”

He pushes up his glasses. “That’s because I feel like you’re going to be very critical and judgmental.”

“Shepard, it’s impossible to think without being critical and judgmental. That’s literally the process.”

“The way you do it, yes.”

“Come on,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I know you’re dying to tell me. Where did it happen? Dubuque, Iowa? Topeka, Kansas? The banks of the Colorado River?”

He smiles. More sadly than usual. “It happened in Omaha, as a matter of fact.”

“Excellent,” I say, turning to my blackboard. “That’s something we know. Omaha, Nebraska.”

24

AGATHA