Read Online Find Me I'm Yours by Hillary Carlip - Free Book Online Page B

of person who would continue trying to guess all day long if I didn’t stop her. “I’m sorry.” I sobbed even harder now.
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œFor doing what I did. For not telling you.”
    â€œWhat the hell’s going on, Mags?”
    So I told her. Everything that had happened since she and Blake dropped me off what seemed like a lifetime ago.
    â€œThat fucking Jason!” she yelled. “Now are you convinced that he’s not for you?”
    I shook my head, a pathetic yes.
    â€œAnd honestly,” Coco added, “Mark is just not ready for all you want. I guess there’s only one thing we can do today….”

Chapter 15
    DAY 3—AFTERNOON
    Like a one-person SWAT team, Coco went to my apartment, swooped in, and picked up the tape we got at the Villa Seaside Apartments. For once, timing was on our side as the Asstress was in the shower. Well, that was luckier for S.H.A.R.I. than for Coco. The betraying biatch would remain unscathed for at least one more day.
    When Coco returned with Toupee and Boo, it made me cry even more. We all bundled up in a fleece blanket on her couch, Coco put the tape in the camera, and we watched.
    Click the pic to watch the video:

    If you didn’t go watch it, here’s what it said:
    Hey. So far so good. You might be wondering why I’m sitting here wearing only one boot. Well, as you know, I’m looking for my SOLE mate. All you gotta do is find my other boot, which is somewhere in this region here [points to map on his lap], and you’ll be one STEP closer to finding your prince. Maybe not Prince Charming, but I’m definitely not a HEEL.
    Cool, are we done? Cut? Good, because I think there’s someone coming actually.
    OMGggggg!!! He was sitting on some outdoor stairs wearing only one boot. Seriously, THAT WAS ALL! (Now you gonna go watch?!)
    Coco was laughing her ass off.
    â€œHow could you not fall for that?” I asked.
    â€œHe is funny. And not bad eye candy,” Coco relented. “If he’s for real,” she couldn’t resist adding.
    I threw a pillow at her.
    â€œOK”—she was back to being nice—“so last time we cracked the first clue by figuring out where he was when the tape was shot. Why don’t we start there again?”
    Great. A purpose. A plan.
    â€œWell, he’s outdoors on some stairs,” I offered, with my oh-so-keen powers of observaysh.
    â€œMaybe it’s one of those stair walks,” Coco deduced. “I’ve seen books about them at Skylight.”
    Skylight is one of the coolest independent bookstores in L.A. still standing. I go in there all the time to see, feel, and even smell the pages of real books. Also, they still sell a zine I did a while back in one of my productive phases.

    If you wanna make some art that you can touch and hold, you can get my zine—which is chock-full o’ kick-ass images, scraps, and “Snip Its” (®, not) that you can cut out to make your own collages—at a smattering of independent bookstores. I keep a pretty updated list of who carries it on my website:
    www.DIYCollage.com
    I returned to the task at hand. “But aren’t there like a million stair walks in L.A.?”
    â€œWell, there are also a million dog parks—that didn’t stop us,” she said. “There should be just as many websites about stairs, too.”
    She put the computer on her lap and started clicking away. I was fading, having only slept about an hour the night before.
    â€œWe need more brainpower,” I said. “Be right back.”
    I went to the kitchen and returned with two glasses filled with my own cocktail concoction, a mix of Drambuie and Red Bull.
    â€œHere’s a Drambully.”
    We drank and searched. We found a site with a map of eighty-one different stair walks, from Topanga to South Pasadena. But there were no pictures, so how would we ever match Mr. WTF’s stairs? We