Paper Towns pdfdrive com

8328 bartlesville Avenue
I couldn’t put the door back on without beating the pins back into place with
the screwdriver, which would have definitely alerted my parents, so I just
propped the door on its hinges and kept it all the way open. I pocketed the pins
and then went to my computer and looked up a map of 8328 Bartlesville Avenue.
I’d never heard of the street.
It was 34.6 miles away, way the hell out Colonial Drive almost to the town of
Christmas, Florida. When I zoomed in on the satellite image of the building, it
looked like a black rectangle fronted by dull silver and then grass behind. A
mobile home, maybe? It was hard to get a sense of scale, because it was
surrounded by so much green.
I called Ben and told him. “So I was right!” he said. “I can’t wait to tell
Lacey, because she totally thought it was a good idea, too!”
I ignored the Lacey comment. “I think I’m gonna go,” I said.
“Well, yeah, of course you’ve gotta go. I’m coming. Let’s go on Sunday
morning. I’ll be tired from all-night prom partying, but whatever.”

---

“No, I mean I’m going tonight,” I said.
“Bro, it’s dark. You can’t go to a strange building with a mysterious address
in the dark. Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie?”
“She could be there,” I said.
“Yeah, and a demon who can only be nourished by the pancreases of young
boys could also be there,” he said. “Christ, at least wait till tomorrow, although
I’ve got to order her corsage after band, and then I want to be home in case
Lacey IM’s, because we’ve been IM’ing a lot—”
I cut him off. “No, tonight. I want to see her.” I could feel the circle closing.
In an hour, if I hurried, I could be looking at her.
“Bro, I am not letting you go to some sketchy address in the middle of the
night. I will Tase your ass if necessary.”
“Tomorrow morning,” I said, mostly to myself. “I’ll just go tomorrow
morning.” I was tired of having perfect attendance anyway. Ben was quiet. I
heard him blowing air between his front teeth.
“I do feel a little something coming on,” he said. “Fever. Cough. Aches.
Pains.” I smiled. After I hung up, I called Radar.
“I’m on the other line with Ben,” he said. “Let me call you back.”
He called back a minute later. Before I could even say hello, Radar said, “Q,
I’ve got this terrible migraine. There’s no way I can go to school tomorrow.” I
laughed.
After I got off the phone, I stripped down to T-shirt and boxers, emptied my
garbage can into a drawer, and put the can next to the bed. I set my alarm for the
ungodly hour of six in the morning, and spent the next few hours trying in vain
to fall asleep.

---