Fanfare Read Online Free

manual at least once instead of pompously discarding the packaging and placing ill-gotten faith in my own technological aptitude.
    “Gita? I’ll call you back,” I said in a rush.
    “Okay, sure! Bye!” she replied.
    “Tom? Sorry about that,” I said while attempting to slow my speech.
    Jeez! I really wasn’t enamored at all, but I think the whole famous thing was getting to me. I pursed my lips and steadied my shaking voice. I’d rather eat shit than have him think he could make me freak out just because some idiots in Hollywood thought he was easy on the eyes.
    “Don’t apologize. It’s not a big deal.” Again, I felt like I detected a faint level of anxiety in his voice that caught me off guard. Wasn’t being obnoxiously self-assured a staple characteristic of the cinema elite?
    “Are you nervous?” I blurted without thought. Strike two, Cris . . . or maybe three. I’d lost count.
    “Uh.” He exhaled in surprise at my bluntness. “Actually, I am. I don’t normally call girls I just met in passing. It’s not exactly at the top of my list of fun things to do.”
    Right. Sure. Pretending to be the awkward guy was apparently his current trick for tricks. “I guess you don’t normally take their iPods either,” I said with a sarcastic laugh.
    He chuckled softly. “No, I don’t typically do that. I actually rescued your iPod. You should probably thank me. Some girl thought she’d struck gold.”
    “Unless ‘gold’ is code for a lime green iPod with a giant scratch across the screen, I don’t know why she would want it. There’s probably not much on there that would interest her. I’m not into the Jonas Brothers.”
    “So I noticed. What exactly draws you to angry music with a politically-charged message?”
    I thought for a moment. “Irreverence and rebellion.” If he asked, I would give it to him straight. I had enough experience with word games to fill a book that would make The Brothers Karamazov look like a walk in the park.
    He laughed comfortably this time. “I can see both of those things in you.”
    “How?” I asked carefully.
    “I actually noticed you before you made it up to the signing table. You were squinting oddly at me.”
    “Yeah, I couldn’t see anything. I left my glasses in the car.”
    “That was probably unwise. Sight’s important.”
    “So I’ve heard.” Freaking Hana.
    “I thought you hated every moment of standing in line. Whenever your friends came over to talk to you, you couldn’t wait for them to leave. Most girls like having the distraction and the attention of their peers, especially in public. I dunno, I think it makes them feel desirable.”
    Man, he had noticed a lot. “How did you manage to sign all those autographs and notice enough around you to make social commentary?”
    “Are you kidding? Do you know how many times I’ve had to sign my name in my life? Honestly, I’ll bet if someone handed me a pen in my sleep, I’d wake up with my name tattooed over half my body and all across the sheets.”
    “So, you’re subconsciously a narcissist? Interesting—a narcissistic movie star. There’s a new one.”
    “And here comes the irreverence. Aren’t you supposed to be charming? Usually, girls I meet go out of their way to be charming to me. You actually went out of your way to suggest that I’m a racist wanker.”
    I grimaced. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Do you want to know the funny thing? I actually like Daddy Yankee.”
    He laughed loudly. “A Latin girl who likes reggaeton. It’s downright shocking.”
    I was surprised at how easy he was to talk to. “I can be charming when I want to be. It just wasn’t my day.”
    “I honestly prefer the irreverence. It helps to ground me.”
    “If you’re telling me that you dislike hearing a bunch of girls say how gorgeous you are, I’m going to scoff in disbelief.” Shit, I’d used the word “scoff.”
    “Scoff away. I actually hate it.”
    “Please.” I snorted.
    “I really