Read Online Pass It On by J. Minter - Free Book Online Page B

happened?” Philippa asked.
    â€œWell,” Mickey said. “It seems like Jonathan was only supposed to invite one friend on the wild sailing trip, but he invited me, David, and Arno, and maybe Patch, too, although I haven’t talked to him in a while.”
    â€œSorry, baby. I know you were excited about going,” Philippa said. They lay there, quietly, in front of the ten-foot-high fireplace, surrounded by huge sculptures and paintings. In the distance, they could hear one of the housekeepers preparing hors d’oeuvres for the drinks hour that the Pardos had every day at six-thirty for whomever happened to be around the house, whether they were art dealers, collectors, or just Ricardo’s staff of guys, who were always up for some eating.
    â€œI think he’ll still take me. I mean, I’d definitely be the most fun, and really, he’d probably fall of the edge of a cliff or something if I wasn’t there to help him with all the outdoorsy stuff.”
    â€œYeah,” Philippa said. “But don’t do anything too wild to prove that to him, okay?” Philippa was really good at reading Mickey’s mind.
    â€œI’ll see what I can do.” Mickey smiled mischievously at his beautiful, calm girlfriend and picked up a big log. He dropped it on the massive andirons his dad had made out of a park bench. “Got a match?”
    Philippa flipped him some matches. He struck the match and threw it into the fireplace, and immediately the huge log was engulfed in flame. The Pardos soaked their logs in kerosene because they were too impatient to bother with kindling.
    Philippa reached over and kissed Mickey, and he decided he could wait to prove to Jonathan that he was the most fun friend and thus definitely the guy to take on the trip. After all, he’d still be fun even after making out with Philippa some more, right? And before long they were rolling around together in front of the sputtering, flaming log.

the joy of being somewhere i never am
    Ruth and I agreed to meet for tea at a little spot in Williamsburg, which is a neighborhood where I basically never go. For one thing, it’s in Brooklyn, and for another, it’s like visiting a college campus because there are so many hipsters streaming around. And honestly, twenty-five-year-old guys dressed up in whatever the guys from the Darkness wore the last time they played Bowery Ballroom can be a little trying. I mean, sometimes these hipsters just look old. And old hipsters are annoying.
    But none of that mattered when I got off the L train on Bedford Avenue. The sun was setting and the sky was a sweet blue, etched with lines of white from airplane exhaust, and I was feeling mellow, as deeply mellow as I had since my mom left town. I shielded my eyes and looked around, trying to figure out which direction was south and how I was going to find the Bell Café, whereI was supposed to meet Ruth.
    â€œHey!”
    And there she was. She grabbed my hand and we did this kind of awkward kiss thing, pretty much where we rubbed cheeks, but not entirely. It was good, really good.
    â€œWow, now I’m not lost,” I said. “And I ran into you in the street again. That’s incredible that we keep doing that.”
    â€œYeah, it kind of is,” Ruth said. Her voice still had that odd low and nasal quality, which was such a relief to me because without it she was much too perfect and it would’ve been too much to deal with her.
    â€œIt’s like, as opposed to other people, I don’t have to worry about losing you, cause we’ll just run into each other again.”
    We walked along Bedford, weaving in and out of the throngs of guys and girls who looked like they were headed for band practice or to their jewelry studios or to jobs working for fashion photographers. They sort of made me feel like the new Y-3 neck warmer I’d picked up at Barneys Co-Op wasn’t as cool as I’d