Read Online The Oracle Rebounds by Allison van Diepen - Free Book Online
Authors: Allison van Diepen
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city laws, he couldn’t smoke inside public buildings. And when I warned him not to smoke at my house, he said he wouldn’t have anyway.
He asked about my family and friends, and I told him stories about them, using the funniest anecdotes I could think of. The only person I left out was Jared. Talking about him would only be a downer.
Benoit was particularly fascinated by the fact that my mom is a minister. He said that he and most of his friends reject the Church and everything about it. In fact, he’s an atheist. I said that I have respect for most religious and non-religious traditions, as long as they have a basic morality and aren’t Satanic or anything. That made him laugh.
I so hope to see him this evening. I don’t know when he’ll get home because the exchange organizers have a bunch of activities planned. I think today is the Guggenheim Museum. Which I don’t understand, because can’t they see all that European art back home?
When I get home from school, I waste no time. I freshen up, put on some cutesy around-the-house clothes and wait for Benoit.
Eventually it becomes clear that he’s not coming home for dinner. So I eat with Mom and Erland and suffer through their questions about last night. Where did we go? What is he like? Are we getting along?
“He won’t be back until late, in case you were wondering,” Mom says. “They went to a Broadway show.”
“Oh, okay.” Couldn’t she have told me a couple of hours ago?
After dinner, I head up to my room to do homework. When I’m finished, I put the books aside to become the Oracle again. I answer a couple of standard “does he like me?” questions. I have to gently reply “probably not” to both of them. In most cases, when a girl writes asking if a certain guy likes her, it’s because she doesn’t want to accept that he doesn’t. Just because he occasionally flirts with her doesn’t mean he wants to date her. Bottom line: if a guy’s interested, he’ll let you know.
By ten-thirty fatigue is hitting me hard. I usually don’t crawl into bed until eleven, but last night we didn’t get in until midnight, and I was so wired it took me a good hour to fall asleep.
I wash up, get into my pj’s and turn off the lights. Aboutfifteen minutes later, I hear the front door open. Benoit is downstairs talking to my mom. Then I hear him walk up the stairs.
He taps lightly on my door. “Kayla?”
“Come in.”
He enters. “Sorry, you were sleeping.”
I turn on the bedside lamp. “I wasn’t asleep. Come in and tell me about your day.”
He drops his knapsack and sits on the edge of the bed. “The Guggenheim was interesting. As for the show, it was okay, but I would have preferred to sneak out and meet you somewhere. I couldn’t because my teachers were counting our heads like we were babies.”
“Lame.”
“What is ‘lame’?”
“It means totally annoying.”
“Then, yes, it is lame. I did not come here to be with them—I would rather be with you. My professeur says that if we leave the group, we will be penalized and maybe lose credit for English class. But if we get permission to do something with our host family, that will be all right.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll tell them you’re hanging out with us all the time.”
“Yes. You can help me. We can draw up an itinéraire of activities. They cannot say no.”
“Great! Should we do it now?”
“Tomorrow morning is fine. You must sleep.” He gets up. “I look forward to spending time with you, Kayla.”
“Me, too.” I am tingling all over now. “Good night, Benoit.”
“Bonne nuit, mon chou.” And he leaves the room.
Though I don’t know what mon chou means, I’m sure it’s a good thing. I fall back onto my pillow with a dazed smile—and the delicious feeling that my love life might be turning around.
six
20 Days into Rebound Equation
(But who really cares? Benoit is here. )
The next day, I meet Benoit at four o’clock on
He asked about my family and friends, and I told him stories about them, using the funniest anecdotes I could think of. The only person I left out was Jared. Talking about him would only be a downer.
Benoit was particularly fascinated by the fact that my mom is a minister. He said that he and most of his friends reject the Church and everything about it. In fact, he’s an atheist. I said that I have respect for most religious and non-religious traditions, as long as they have a basic morality and aren’t Satanic or anything. That made him laugh.
I so hope to see him this evening. I don’t know when he’ll get home because the exchange organizers have a bunch of activities planned. I think today is the Guggenheim Museum. Which I don’t understand, because can’t they see all that European art back home?
When I get home from school, I waste no time. I freshen up, put on some cutesy around-the-house clothes and wait for Benoit.
Eventually it becomes clear that he’s not coming home for dinner. So I eat with Mom and Erland and suffer through their questions about last night. Where did we go? What is he like? Are we getting along?
“He won’t be back until late, in case you were wondering,” Mom says. “They went to a Broadway show.”
“Oh, okay.” Couldn’t she have told me a couple of hours ago?
After dinner, I head up to my room to do homework. When I’m finished, I put the books aside to become the Oracle again. I answer a couple of standard “does he like me?” questions. I have to gently reply “probably not” to both of them. In most cases, when a girl writes asking if a certain guy likes her, it’s because she doesn’t want to accept that he doesn’t. Just because he occasionally flirts with her doesn’t mean he wants to date her. Bottom line: if a guy’s interested, he’ll let you know.
By ten-thirty fatigue is hitting me hard. I usually don’t crawl into bed until eleven, but last night we didn’t get in until midnight, and I was so wired it took me a good hour to fall asleep.
I wash up, get into my pj’s and turn off the lights. Aboutfifteen minutes later, I hear the front door open. Benoit is downstairs talking to my mom. Then I hear him walk up the stairs.
He taps lightly on my door. “Kayla?”
“Come in.”
He enters. “Sorry, you were sleeping.”
I turn on the bedside lamp. “I wasn’t asleep. Come in and tell me about your day.”
He drops his knapsack and sits on the edge of the bed. “The Guggenheim was interesting. As for the show, it was okay, but I would have preferred to sneak out and meet you somewhere. I couldn’t because my teachers were counting our heads like we were babies.”
“Lame.”
“What is ‘lame’?”
“It means totally annoying.”
“Then, yes, it is lame. I did not come here to be with them—I would rather be with you. My professeur says that if we leave the group, we will be penalized and maybe lose credit for English class. But if we get permission to do something with our host family, that will be all right.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll tell them you’re hanging out with us all the time.”
“Yes. You can help me. We can draw up an itinéraire of activities. They cannot say no.”
“Great! Should we do it now?”
“Tomorrow morning is fine. You must sleep.” He gets up. “I look forward to spending time with you, Kayla.”
“Me, too.” I am tingling all over now. “Good night, Benoit.”
“Bonne nuit, mon chou.” And he leaves the room.
Though I don’t know what mon chou means, I’m sure it’s a good thing. I fall back onto my pillow with a dazed smile—and the delicious feeling that my love life might be turning around.
six
20 Days into Rebound Equation
(But who really cares? Benoit is here. )
The next day, I meet Benoit at four o’clock on
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