Read Online Bounce by Natasha Friend - Free Book Online

not.
    Eleni Linney. It sounds ridiculous.
    I watch Birdie take her hand and lift it in the air, like they just won a mixed doubles tournament. I picture a lifetime of baklava and family meetings.
    I never thought I’d say this, but right now I hate my father.
    At the reception, the only bright spot is Linus. Except that I can’t get to him because he’s surrounded by a million cousins, all flinging their boobs around, even though they’re related to him and should know better.
    I watch this from my seat at the kids’ table, where Phoebe is trying to get me to draw something with our complimentary Crayolas. I want to draw a cliff and jump off it.
    When it’s time to cut the cake, the bride feeds the groom a sweet little bite and everyone claps politely. Personally, I prefer the tradition of smashing it in the other person’s face. If the groom would do that right now, this could be the best weddingever. But Birdie is too nice of a guy. There’s not a cake-smashing gene in his body.
    Out on the patio, I find Mackey. He is eating four-hour-old shrimp off some forgotten tray.
    â€œEleni Linney,” I say. “Could there be a stupider name?”
    â€œLynn.” Mackey dribbles cocktail sauce down his chin.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œLynn Linney. Lynnie Linney. That would be stupider.”
    â€œOkay, fine. But I still can’t believe she took our name.”
    â€œMmf.”
    â€œThis has to be one of the all-time worst days of my life,” I tell him.
    Mackey shrugs. He grabs three shrimp and jams them all in his mouth.
    â€œWhat. You don’t think it bites?”
    He shrugs again.
    â€œYou actually like her?”
    Big swallow. “Eleni?”
    â€œYes, Eleni. She doesn’t drive you crazy with her cooking and her smiling and her little comments? And the way she’s all over Birdie all the time? That doesn’t make you want to rip off your own fingernails?”
    â€œHrmp.”
    I stare at my brother. “Could you use some
words
for once? Some English?”
    I can’t look at him anymore. I can’t watch him stuff his face or shrug like a moron. I can’t try to figure out what he thinks about anything that matters.
    I feel like my head is going to explode. I feel like if I don’tget out of here I’ll do something crazy, like smash cake in someone’s face.
    On my way out I pass the dance floor, where everyone is bouncing and sweating all over one another.
    It’s a combination of Eleni’s friends (Roger? Clive! Petunia, yoo-hoo!) and her Greek relatives. Nobody from our side, unless you count Birdie’s carpenter friend, Greg, or my great-aunt Janice, which I don’t.
    A slow song comes on, and I can’t move fast enough. The last thing I need to see right now is the bride and groom making out.
    I pick up the pace, weaving in and out of bodies, toward the door.
    And then something amazing happens.
    â€œEvyn?” There’s a hand on my back. Big, warm.
    I turn around. “Yeah?”
    It’s Him. With the tux. And the curls. And the shoulders. And the dream teeth.
    And he
    is asking
    me
    to dance.
    Stella?
    StellaStellaStella, are you watching this?
    He told me to take off my shoes so I could stand on his feet. And we’re so close, my stomach is touching his stomach and Ican smell him, and he smells so good, Stell, can you smell that? It’s like the sandalwood Birdie uses. I don’t want this song to be over. Is this what it was like, the first time you danced with Birdie? Did you never, ever, ever want the song to end? Ever?
    Stella smiles at me. And for the first time all day, I smile back.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    On Monday morning, Birdie leaves for his honeymoon. They are going to Vermont, to a bed-and-breakfast. I can picture them eating breakfast just fine (fresh-squeezed orange juice and buckwheat pancakes with real maple syrup), but the other part—the bed part—is too disgusting to