Read Online The Red Blazer Girls by Michael D. Beil - Free Book Online

by herself in Poland, and I guess it's a treat having people to talk to. She goes to bed at seven-thirty so I can't turn on the light or use my computer. And she keeps rearranging all my stuff! She says my skirt is too short and my shoes look like the ones the prostitutes in Warsaw wear—which is definitely
not
true. And every day, she tells my parents that I'll be ruined because I have a cell phone.”
    Hmmm. Doesn't sound
that
bad to me, but I want tobe supportive. “Maybe she's still settling in, you know, still getting over the jet lag, and once the novelty of having people around to talk to wears off, she'll be fine. Give her some time. In the meantime, we can hang here more often.”
    “Okay but how about we straighten up those piles?” “You mean you want to rearrange
my
stuff?” I am whacked in the head with a pillow. Twice!

In which a certain green-eyed character
makes an appearance
    During our review of the finer points of the French and Indian War, I clue Margaret in to my including Raf in our efforts to solve the puzzle. After all, if we can trust Leigh Ann, who we've known for like ten minutes, we ought to be able to trust an old friend like Raf, right? It takes a little convincing, but in the end she agrees that we aren't betraying Ms. Harriman. Having one more decent brain put to the task can't hurt. Never once do I let the fact that he seems to get better looking every time I see him or that I (kind of) miss having him around enter my decision-making process.
    The next day, we walk into Perkatory a few minutes after four-thirty, and there he is, feet propped up on a scuzzy coffee table.
    “Hey, losers. You're late.” He flashes his gleaming white teeth at us.
    We hug him anyway and squeeze in beside him on the couch.
    “Where's Becca? I thought you three did everything together, like the Three Stooges.”
    “She had to stay home, but she knows what's going on,” I assure him.
    Leigh Ann walks in a few seconds later and takes a diet soda from the cooler. She catches a glimpse of us as she pays the cashier.
    “Oh, hi, guys. What's up?” She smiles right at Rafael.
    You should see the way they are looking at each other. And most unfortunately, Leigh Ann is kind of the female equivalent of Rafael. Face it, she's beautiful—the whole package. She's from the Dominican Republic and has this totally amazing skin and big brown eyes. Guys just go all stupid over her. She and Raf look like they just stepped out of a catalog.
    Margaret, whose crush on Rafael is more theoretical and whose manners are
way
better than mine, introduces them. “Leigh Ann, meet our friend Raf. He used to go to St. Andrew's, but now he's over at Aquinas. Leigh Ann is new this year, but she's already part of the gang.”
    “Like Shemp,” I say.
    “Hi,” says Leigh Ann.
    “Hey,” says Raf.
    Genetically fortunate? Yes. Sparkling conversationalists? Not so much.
    Boo-hoo, Leigh Ann can't stay! Alas, she has dance class and has to pirouette her way downtown. An awful shame. As soon as she leaves, I shove Raf on the shoulder. Hard.
    “What's that for?”
    I mimic the posture and smile he had affected for Leigh Ann. “Hey.”
    “What?” he says, totally pretending not to know what I am talking about.
    “Could you be any more obvious?”
    Margaret nods her assent. “She's right, Raf. You
were
kind of obvious.” She leans forward and opens her backpack, ready for business. “But enough of this hormonal distraction.”
    Margaret and I tell him the whole story. If one of us leaves something out, the other jumps right in.
    “Can I see this letter?” he asks.
    Margaret hands him the copy.
    Raf reads silently. “Jeez, who
was
this kid?”
    “C'mon, you're
supposed
to be smart,” I tease.
    “Margaret
is the smart one.
I'm
the good-looking one.”
    “Hey, what does that make me?”
    “You—you're the—well—”
    Is he blushing? Something strange is going on here. Another mystery?
    “Focus!” says Margaret. “Does it