Read Online Sam Cruz's Infallible Guide to Getting Girls by Tellulah Darling - Free Book Online Page A

the front door of the school open for me while totally checking me out.
    The guys in my honor classes are tongue-tied. Even Max, Jeremy’s douchebag best friend, is awkward around me, instead of mean.
    The power has shifted.
    I. Love. It.
    We honors kids have our classes pretty concentrated up in this one wing on the second floor. We’re even on our own lunch schedule, which means Sam and I don’t see a lot of each other at school.
    It also means that Sam hasn’t seen me yet in this particular outfit, which on a scale of one to ten puts me at a fourteen with its amazing cleavage showingoffness. So I’m excited to meet up with him at Delish Dish after classes.
    Behind the counter, Matt chats with Rosie, a feisty senior and regular patron.
    He glances at me as I enter, slide off my coat, and head for our usual booth. Sam is there, texting.
    “Doesn’t Ally look lovely, Rosie?” Matt asks.
    Vic, an elderly curmudgeon, and another regular, pipes up from the booth next to ours. “She looks damn sexy.”
    “Quit it, guys. I’m blushing.”
    I grin at Sam, who has glanced up as I slide into the booth. He just stares at me, grim.
    “Bad day?”
    “I didn’t see you buy that one.”
    “No. Rach went back with me later to add a couple more things. Don’t like it?”
    “They’re clothes.” He shrugs in a “whatever” way.
    “Glad I’m not trying to impress you. Everyone else seemed to love it.”
    “Goody for them,” he mutters and shifts in his seat, like he’s pinched his testicles in his underwear.
    I throw an exaggerated leer his way. “What’s next? Wild animal sex?”
    Not even a smile.
    “You can do better,” Matt says, frowning at Sam as he deposits two coffees on our table.
    “Not Sam. Someone else. I am a modern woman owning my sexuality.”
    Rosie swings around on her stool. “Make sure he gives you an orgasm,” she orders.
    “Do all you old people have your hearing aids turned to eleven?” Sam fumes. “This is a private conversation.”
    I smile in apology for his appallingly bad manners but Sam stares pointedly until they turn away.
    “Fries, Matt,” he grumbles.
    “Please,” I correct.
    “Please,” he repeats.
    “Me too, please,” I add, glowering at Sam for his general assholishness which is definitely unlike him. He doesn’t respond.
    Fine. “What about that breakdown?” Maybe I can distract him back into a good mood. “What’s step two?”
    “The Grover Bailey.”
    “You mean the Abra Renfrew,” I reply. “I want a girl.”
    Abra was the name of my favorite cat so I figure Sam won’t bother fighting it.
    He doesn’t.
    “And Abra Renfrew is who?” I ask for clarification.
    “The kitten with a whip,” Sam replies smoothly.
    “I like that, but it sounds somewhat vague. Elaborate.”
    “Abra Renfrew is the sister who controls the play. Once she’s owned both her own sweet self and wherever she happens to be, she then uses every situation to her advantage. There is nothing she can’t make work.”
    I frown. “That doesn’t sound very scientific.”
    “No shit, Sherlock, since it’s not a result of a five-year intensive study.”
    I motion for him to continue. “Commence breaking down.”
    “Recognition, disinterest, come hither, flirtation, and invitation.”
    “This oughta be good,” Vic chuckles.
    “Go on,” Rosie says.
    I try not to laugh out loud at their blatant nosiness because I know it’ll irritate Sam more, but come on. It’s funny.
    Under the weight of everyone’s stares, Sam reluctantly starts.
    “‘Recognition.’ Brief eye contact. Slight smile. Let him know you’re aware of him. Followed by ‘disinterest.’ You. Don’t. Care.”
    “So being friendly?” I ask.
    “Absolutely not. You are the million-dollar jackpot, not some cheap carny prize. Act accordingly.”
    “Aloof and desirable,” I affirm.
    “Well, you know. Desirable is a relative term. Leaving a lot to the imagination can be desirable. Wearing a turtleneck. A long