Read Online Hold On Tight by J. Minter - Free Book Online Page A

which she and her two fictional older sisters introduced themselves and their basic personality traits. It was very show-tuney and, even to a bunch of second graders, very obviously lame. It ended with Mike’s swinging all the girls around until they squealed, and then kissing them on the forehead.
    Sara-Beth whimpered into David’s borrowed whiteV-neck as he turned to look at the two interviewers. The funny protective feeling he was feeling toward her must have shown on his face, because the woman named Susan gave him this apologetic look and plaintively said, “I’m a fan.”
    This elicited a loud sob from Sara-Beth, and she took a fistful of David’s shirt.
    â€œWell, I really don’t think that’s very appropriate,” David said. He could feel Sara-Beth nodding vigorously into his chest. He cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Or very classy.” The interviewers stepped back. They did actually look sort of chastised. David moved away from them toward the entryway, half supporting, half dragging Sara-Beth. He wondered briefly if the clothes were transforming him into a more confrontational person, but before his doubts could slow him down he was saying, “And, come to think of it, there’s no way I could consider attending a school like Vassar where stuff like this is allowed to happen!” He had the door open, and he and Sara-Beth were practically out of there. The interviewers were staring at them, mouths agape.
    Sara-Beth didn’t let go of David until they were safely outside, with the quiet campus all around them. “Thank you,” she whispered.
    â€œIt was nothing,” David said. “I just feel bad for you.”
    â€œNo, you don’t understand,” Sara-Beth said as she picked up his hand and squeezed it. “Arno, no one’s ever done anything remotely like that for me before.”
    Um,
Arno?

art chicks are crazy
    â€œI find your work especially courageous,” said the chair of the Vassar Art department. “I mean this conflagration of talent is so rare, especially in an artist so young.”
    The chair, Brenda Breton, dragged her fingers across Mickey’s knee as she spoke. They were sipping Sancerre in a small room, which Professor Breton had several times referred to as the
salon
, adjacent to the lecture hall. The room did have silk upholstered chairs and wall sconces, which did seem kind of elegant to Mickey. Despite the fact that she was well over forty, the professor’s cleavage was smooth and tremendous. Mickey, who was wearing a vintage Charlie’s Angels shirt and David’s little kid suit pants, was finding it difficult to concentrate.
    â€œThanks,” he said.
    â€œHow are you liking the cottage?” asked the auburn-haired woman sitting in the sofa chair on Mickey’s other side. She appeared to be a few years younger thanProfessor Breton, and her name was Lourdes. Professor Lourdes Soto of nearby Sarah Lawrence college, who specialized in postmodern art movements. She was wearing a flowing, fashionable dress that Mickey found surprising on an academic.
    â€œIt’s sweet,” Mickey said.
    â€œUsually Brenda has me stay there when I visit, but I guess she thought you were more important,” Professor Soto said, smiling conspiratorially and fluffing her sable bob.
    â€œOh, hush, Lourdes. You know it’s only because I like having you stay in my house,” Professor Breton said.
    â€œBut I can’t say I disagree about your importance,” Professor Soto went on. “We’re all very impressed by the attention you’ve managed to garner already.”
    â€œSeems like there’s enough room in that cottage for both of us,” Mickey said, winking at Professor Soto and taking a healthy gulp of wine. “It’s pretty phat.”
    â€œMmmm …,” Professor Soto said. “You know, we have lovely grounds, too.”
    â€œYou mean at