Well," he asked, "whaddya expect?"
It was so obviously a rhetorical question that of course I answered it. My truth impulse seemed stronger around this boy,my impulse control way under par.
"I would expect you to be dancing."
His expression was unreadable in the limited light. "Is that an invitation?"
"No. An observation."
He shrugged. "Okay. I needed a break. It was either keep an eye on Chase while he pukes up a fifth of cheap rum in the guys' bathroom or follow the girls into the ladies' room."
I almost smiled and told him about Willing's bathrooms and me. Instead, some truly horrific and irresistible impulse had me announcing, "Amanda looks really pretty tonight."
"So do you."
Bizarrely, I felt my breath catch in my chest, and for a long, awful second, I thought I might cry. I gripped the top of my pad tightly, concentrated on the spiral metal binding where it dug into my skin.
"It's a cool costume," he said. "Water nymph?"
"Sea goddess," I answered quietly. "Roman."
"Hmm." Alex was staring out toward the garden now,looking so at ease that I went from pretzel to knot. Could it really be that easy for him? To say things like he did without thinking? Without meaning them at all? "Too many mermaids tonight. Not that I have anything against mermaids.Mermaids are hot. I mean,you saw my drawing."
I nodded.
"You know," he went on, "that day in the hall,you compared my stuff to two Japanese artists-"
I nodded again,even though he was looking out into the darkened gardens now and not at me. "Suzuki Harunobu and Utagawa Kuniyoshi. They were eighteenth and nineteeth-century woodblock print masters-"
"Ella," he interrupted. "I know who they are."
"Oh."
"In fact, I have a couple original Kuniyoshi prints."
"Oh.Wow.Wow.

Auteur: Melissa Jensen