The information below is included in your interlibrary loan request. To change this data, submit a Change of Address request, or contact your local library for assistance. Library Card. Always happy to educate. When I asked him about it, he said Napoleon was his hero.
He was an arse. But he was a short arse, like meself. Thanks for pointing that out now. Josh puts his hands behind his head and tilts back his chair. His shirtsleeves roll up to expose a skull- and-crossbones tattoo on his upper right arm. The black ink is dark against his pale skin. Clair scratches his head and looks away. Last year they were worse.
Been together long, then? Probably not, but I ask anyway. Clair thinks for a moment. I suck in my breath. Clair is a different kind of attractive, a different species altogether. Then it slips out because she has one. I spurt orangey-red soup across the table. He hands me a napkin to wipe my chin. Cough cough. Now I shall have to save it for special occasions. It was. I try to take the napkins to clean it myself, but he waves my hand away.
Happy belated birthday. Yesterday was my eighteenth birthday. Bridge even bought cotton candy for his ear hair. I mean, Ellie took you out? Or even a belated happy Friday. With my friend. Clair asks. To get to other parts of campus. Clair raises his eyebrows. His fingers are slender, like the rest of his body, and he has a black ink splotch on one index finger. Any part of it? I saw the Eiffel Tower. And your plans for tonight?
Scrubbing the shower? Scrubbing is underrated. The cafeteria will be closed. He shakes his head. His dark messy hair has a few curls in it today. If there were an Olympics competition in hair, St. Clair would totally win, hands down. Gold medal. I shrug. And you want to spend it in your bedroom? I look at St. Clair for help, but find him staring at me with his head tilted to the side. Green bean between my teeth? Clair smiles to himself.
He reaches out and touches it lightly. I munch on vending machine snacks and update my website. Create a new banner. Edit an old review. In the evening, Bridge emails me: Went with Matt and Cherrie M for meretricious to the movies last night.
And guess what? Toph asked about you!! I think he got the hint. We talked about his band for a minute still no shows, of course but Matt was making faces the whole time, so we had to go. You know how he feels about Toph.
I KNOW. Bridge Meretricious. Showily attractive but cheap or insincere. That is so Cherrie. Everyone likes Toph. And call in sick. No such luck. One regular, clockworkorange88, said this: It sucked balls. Dirty balls. Like I-ran-a-mile-in- July-while-wearing-leather-pants balls. Sounds about right.
After a while I get bored and do a search for Like Water for Chocolate. Like, all night. Blah blah blah. Nothing interesting. Tita can control the heat inside her kitchen, but the fire inside of her own body is a force of both strength and destruction. Not someone. I am not even wearing a bra. I can see your light. Come in. Then he breaks into a mischievous smile and brushes past me.
Clair stands in the center of my room. He scratches his head, and his T-shirt lifts up on one side, exposing a slice of bare stomach. My inner fire ignites. Flames extinguished. Whoever cleaned my windows last had no idea how to use a bottle of Windex. The key is to only spray a little at a time. Alarmingly so. He inspects the collection of banana and elephant figurines lined up on my dresser. He holds up a glass elephant and raises his dark eyebrows in question.
Clair sets down the glass elephant and wanders to my desk. And no. Definitely not. Not that that would be so bad. But I like Toph, and St. Clair has a girlfriend. And even if the situation were different, Mer still has dibs. And my second. And every other day this week. Nothing to get worked up over. I mean, the streets of Europe are filled with beautiful guys, right?
Guys with grooming regimens and proper haircuts and stylish coats. But still. He turns his face away from mine. Is it my imagination, or does he look embarrassed? But why would he be embarrassed? It was taken before the midnight release of the latest fantasy-novel-to-film adaptation. Most of us were dressed like elves or wizards. Hercules is an assistant manager.
A ponytail. This one. I mean, Toph was my almost-boyfriend. I moved away before After an awkward silence, he puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. The words are embroidered above a picture of a unicorn. It was a gift from my grandparents, and the motto and crest are for the Oliphant clan. For instance, my bedspread. But how did you know?
Thanks, Granddad. But how was I supposed to know a Scottish motto would be in French? I thought they hated France. Or is that just the English? I always assumed it was in Latin or some other dead language. Mom is doing a study on the lifetime reproductive habits of snapping turtles and visits her brood in the Chattahoochee River several times a month. My brother loves to go with her, while I prefer the safety of our home. Snapping turtles are mean. He was rooting for Malcolm or Ewan or Dougal instead.
Clair laughs. He sits down on the edge of my bed. But not yet. My dad left six months after Sean was born. That sucks. I mean, obviously he is, if he left us when Seany was a baby. Which he totally did. In Paris. But I guarantee you that my father is worse. He divides his time between them. I say as much. I gesture at my pajama bottoms. Do we honestly have to go through this again? I slam it back, and he grins, slides off the bed, and smacks me full force.
I grab for it but miss, and he hits me again twice before letting me catch it. Clair doubles over in laughter, and I whack him on the back. He tries to reclaim it, but I hold on and we wrestle back and forth until he lets go.
The force throws me onto the bed, dizzy and sweaty. Clair flops down beside me, breathing heavily. Our arms are almost touching. I try to exhale, but I no longer know how to breathe. I want things to be normal. I want to be his friend, not another stupid girl holding out for something that will never happen. I force myself up. My hair has gone all crazy and staticky from the pillow fight, so I grab an elastic band off my dresser to pull it back. Clair grunts and chucks the pillow at me.
My phone rings. My heart stops. He called! Toph called! Get your name stitched onto it. You could wear it instead of your name tag. Not even you. Clair is still lying on my bed. He props up his head to watch me. I smile and point to the picture on my laptop. Toph, I mouth. Clair shakes his head. Ah, he mouths back. And, as people who spend tons of time together are prone to do, we talk the same.
Though she uses bigger words. And her arms are sculpted from the drumming. And I have the gap between my teeth, while she had braces. From the corner of my eye, I see St. Clair glance at the clock on my dresser. Many member changes and arguments over lyrical content have transpired, but no actual shows. Which is too bad. I bet Toph looks good behind a guitar. Her jerkwad percussion instructor just passed her up as section leader, and she has some rage to funnel.
Toph repeats it back as St. Clair taps an imaginary wristwatch. He clears his throat loudly. My friend. Should I have said that? I mean Ditch us for some Frenchie and never return? Okay,Annabel Lee. I should get back to work anyway. Clair gets up from the bed. Maybe annoyed. He nods toward my door. Lemme change first. Only American tourists wear them, big ugly things made for mowing grass or painting houses.
The lights of Paris are yellow and green and orange. The warm air swirls with the chatter of people in the streets and the clink of wineglasses in the restaurants. Clair has brightened back up and is detailing the more gruesome aspects of the Rasputin biography he finished this afternoon.
In fact, Rasputin has enough energy to strangle one of them, so they shoot him three more times. So they beat the bloody crap out of him, wrap him in a sheet, and throw him into an icy river.
We use this information to create a better experience for all users. Please review the types of cookies we use below. These cookies allow you to explore OverDrive services and use our core features. Without these cookies, we can't provide services to you. And, somehow, this extra cash and pseudo-prestige have warped his brain into thinking that I should live in France.
For a year. At least the people in my new school speak English. I mean, real y. Who sends their kid to boarding school? There are twenty-five people in my entire senior class, as opposed to the six hundred I had back in Atlanta. Or her fabulous job at the Royal Midtown 14 multiplex. Or Toph, the fabulous boy at the Royal Midtown 14 multiplex. Or Seany will accidental y eat something containing Red Dye 40 and his throat will swel up and no one will be there to drive him to the hospital.
If that doesn't work, there may be a network issue, and you can use our self test page to see what's preventing the page from loading. Learn more about possible network issues or contact support for more help. Download Destination. Search Search Search Browse menu. Sign in. Recent updates. Anna and the French Kiss. Description Details Reviews Anna can't wait for her senior year in Atlanta, where she has a good job, a loyal best friend, and a crush on the verge of becoming more.