Read Online The Perfect Guy (Books We Love Young Adult Romance) by Ann Herrick - Free Book Online
Authors: Ann Herrick
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shelter at her house. The next day they found him dead in a cave down by the Hammonasset River."
" How sad!"
"Ye ah," said Josh. "But maybe he’d make a good character for the play."
"Definitely." I looked through the papers Josh had given me. "You really dug up a lot of information. You’re a big help."
"I aim to please." Josh smiled as he surveyed all the papers spread over the table. "Where do we start?"
"I’m trying to organize things by date for now."
"Sounds easy enough." Josh started sifting through everything.
"Take it easy on that leg," I said. "Sit down if it bothers you."
"My leg?" Josh stared at me. "Oh. Don’t worry. My leg will be fine."
We sorted and stacked papers, jotted notes, and began a rough outline. J osh joked around the whole time, so, though we accomplished a lot, before we knew it three hours had whizzed by.
"We got a lot done." Josh stood and stretched. "It’s time to relax. How about if you and I—"
"Hi." Pres entered the kitchen. He was dusty and dirty from practice. "How’s your leg, Josh? Will you be able to play Tuesday? That opening game against Guilford is going to be tough. We’ll need you."
"My leg feels better already." Josh bent his knee a couple of times. "Probably just a cramp. I’m fine now."
"Good," Pres said.
"Pres, you’re a mess." I brushed dirt off his sleeve. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to touch him.
"Well, I guess it’s time for me to go," Josh said.
"Thanks for your help," I said. "I really appreciate it."
"As I said, any time." Josh ran his hand through his dark curly hair. "See you tomorrow?"
"Sure."
As soon as Josh was out the door, I turned to Pres again. "Could you help me with my French homework?" I hoped to recapture the closeness I’d felt to him that night in the attic. How better to achieve it than to study a beautiful, romantic language together?
"I’ve got to shower," Pres said. "And I have to work out some chemical equations later. But I guess I can help you for a while, if you don’t mind waiting."
"I’ll be here."
While Pres showered I cleared off the kitchen table, took the play papers up to my room, gathered up my French book and notes, and spread them out on the dining room table. I thought it was slightly more conducive to "amour" than the kitchen.
I opened my book to the Chapter I was supposed to study. The words I saw, however, were not those on the page. Instead, the phrase Je t’aime, Je t’aime flashed before my eyes. What a beautiful way to say I love you . I pictured myself in a sylvan setting, curled up on a blanket with Pres. He was whispering in my ear, " Je t’aime , Rebecca. Je t’aime ."
"This is what you’re working on?" Pres grabbed the book from my hands and sat down across from me, jolting me out of my daydream. "Okay, conjugate the verb manger , to eat."
For the next thirty minutes I conjugated verbs, described pencils on tables in French, and worked my way through about fifty vocabulary words. I didn’t have time to admire Pres’s gorgeous blue-green eyes or devote myself to even a moment of complete adoration. Pres was a stern taskmaster. For a couple of seconds I felt as if I were studying with Bill.
"Well, I hope it helped." Pres snapped the book shut and handed it to me. "I’ve got to get back to my chemistry."
I was left sitting at the dining room table, staring at my French book and wondering what other method I could use to try to captivate Pres. Studying French together had totally fizzled.
During the next two weeks I was too busy working on an outline for the 350th Celebration play to contemplate any schemes to entrance Pres. Saturdays Josh and I spent most of the day together slaving away. He even dropped by a couple of weeknights to help. I liked working with him. No matter how things were going, he could always make me laugh. That made my huge task much easier.
One evening after I’d done my homework and had devoted as much time to the play as I cared to that particular
" How sad!"
"Ye ah," said Josh. "But maybe he’d make a good character for the play."
"Definitely." I looked through the papers Josh had given me. "You really dug up a lot of information. You’re a big help."
"I aim to please." Josh smiled as he surveyed all the papers spread over the table. "Where do we start?"
"I’m trying to organize things by date for now."
"Sounds easy enough." Josh started sifting through everything.
"Take it easy on that leg," I said. "Sit down if it bothers you."
"My leg?" Josh stared at me. "Oh. Don’t worry. My leg will be fine."
We sorted and stacked papers, jotted notes, and began a rough outline. J osh joked around the whole time, so, though we accomplished a lot, before we knew it three hours had whizzed by.
"We got a lot done." Josh stood and stretched. "It’s time to relax. How about if you and I—"
"Hi." Pres entered the kitchen. He was dusty and dirty from practice. "How’s your leg, Josh? Will you be able to play Tuesday? That opening game against Guilford is going to be tough. We’ll need you."
"My leg feels better already." Josh bent his knee a couple of times. "Probably just a cramp. I’m fine now."
"Good," Pres said.
"Pres, you’re a mess." I brushed dirt off his sleeve. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to touch him.
"Well, I guess it’s time for me to go," Josh said.
"Thanks for your help," I said. "I really appreciate it."
"As I said, any time." Josh ran his hand through his dark curly hair. "See you tomorrow?"
"Sure."
As soon as Josh was out the door, I turned to Pres again. "Could you help me with my French homework?" I hoped to recapture the closeness I’d felt to him that night in the attic. How better to achieve it than to study a beautiful, romantic language together?
"I’ve got to shower," Pres said. "And I have to work out some chemical equations later. But I guess I can help you for a while, if you don’t mind waiting."
"I’ll be here."
While Pres showered I cleared off the kitchen table, took the play papers up to my room, gathered up my French book and notes, and spread them out on the dining room table. I thought it was slightly more conducive to "amour" than the kitchen.
I opened my book to the Chapter I was supposed to study. The words I saw, however, were not those on the page. Instead, the phrase Je t’aime, Je t’aime flashed before my eyes. What a beautiful way to say I love you . I pictured myself in a sylvan setting, curled up on a blanket with Pres. He was whispering in my ear, " Je t’aime , Rebecca. Je t’aime ."
"This is what you’re working on?" Pres grabbed the book from my hands and sat down across from me, jolting me out of my daydream. "Okay, conjugate the verb manger , to eat."
For the next thirty minutes I conjugated verbs, described pencils on tables in French, and worked my way through about fifty vocabulary words. I didn’t have time to admire Pres’s gorgeous blue-green eyes or devote myself to even a moment of complete adoration. Pres was a stern taskmaster. For a couple of seconds I felt as if I were studying with Bill.
"Well, I hope it helped." Pres snapped the book shut and handed it to me. "I’ve got to get back to my chemistry."
I was left sitting at the dining room table, staring at my French book and wondering what other method I could use to try to captivate Pres. Studying French together had totally fizzled.
During the next two weeks I was too busy working on an outline for the 350th Celebration play to contemplate any schemes to entrance Pres. Saturdays Josh and I spent most of the day together slaving away. He even dropped by a couple of weeknights to help. I liked working with him. No matter how things were going, he could always make me laugh. That made my huge task much easier.
One evening after I’d done my homework and had devoted as much time to the play as I cared to that particular
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