Read Online The Appearance of Annie van Sinderen by Katherine Howe - Free Book Online Page A

eyelashes lowering over those black eyes. “You’re teasing me. You’re not really here.”
    â€œSure I am,” I insist. I plop myself down onto the stoop next to her, my knees drawn up, too, my sneakers alongside her slippers. I nudge her with my elbow. She feels firm, fleshy. In that fleeting pressure my elbow finds room between her ribs, and I dig it in gently, to tickle her. She giggles.
    â€œSee?” I whisper.
    Her tentative smile breaks into a huge grin. She laughs and nudges me back. Her elbow is sharp in my side, but I like it.
    â€œSo how did you find me?” she asks. “Wes.” She rolls my name around in her mouth, like an unfamiliar flavor.
    â€œIt wasn’t easy,” I confess. “Given that I don’t know your name.”
    She doesn’t pick up my gambit. One of her eyebrows draws up into an inquisitive arc.
    â€œWes,” she says again. “Is that a nickname?”
    â€œMaybe,” I say, arching my eyebrow back at her.
    She bites the inside of her cheek, waiting, but two can play at this game, and I don’t pick up her gambit, either. We wait a long beat, daring each other with our eyes. She nudges me in the ribs again, and then we both laugh. When she laughs, her whole face squinches up until the bridge of her nose wrinkles, and I can feel her shoulders shaking where she’s pressed against my side. The curls over her ears vibrate from the energy of her laughing, and it’s all I can do not to put my arm around her shoulders and pull her to my chest and bury my nose in those curls. But that would be completely crazy, and so I don’t.
    â€œSo, listen,” I say after our laughter subsides to eruptive snorts. “This may sound really weird, but I did have to find you.”
    â€œWeird?” she echoes.
    â€œI mean. It’s not a big deal or anything,” I rush to reassure her.
    I go to pull out Tyler’s release form from my bag. She watches me rummage in my backpack with interest. I finally find it, smooth it out on my leg because of course it got all crumpled up while I was carrying it around, and then pass it to her.
    â€œI just need you to sign this. I’m sorry. I should have done it when I was here before.” I’m feeling foolish now. Like she’ll think that I’m just flirting because I want something from her. When actually, I want . . . I want . . .
    She looks the release form over, a baffled expression on her face. Then she glances up at me, questions in her eyes.
    â€œI mean . . . ,” I fumble. “I’m just as glad I didn’t. Remember to get you to sign it, I mean. Before. Because then I had to . . .”
    I trail off, staring at her. A long moment falls between us. She’swatching me. I can’t tell what she’s waiting for.
    â€œAnyway,” I say, looking back into my backpack as a flush reddens my face. “Here.” I hand her a pen.
    She takes it gingerly, weighing it in her hand.
    â€œSign?” she says at length. “But what is it?”
    I don’t know why she looks so worried and confused. In a flash I wonder if maybe she’s famous. What if she’s some cable-show teen sensation and I don’t know? What if I’ve been so into my video games and documentaries that she’s someone everybody’s heard of except me, and people bother her to sign stuff all the time, and I’m being a complete jerk? It would explain the funky hair. And the expensive, high-concept dress. But as soon as the thought blooms into being, I discard it. She would have shown up on my image search, if that were true. Even if the funky hair is new, Google would have found that face. That perfect mole.
    God, that mole.
    Then I wonder if maybe she’s in trouble. Maybe she’s run away from home and doesn’t want to let on where she is. She certainly wouldn’t want to be in some art film on the