Sharks & Boys Read Online Free Page A

to think of myself as a moon or maybe a planet being drawn to another moon. Like the path I was on with Wick was more significant than anything on earth; it was celestial.
    And then, right when the check came and he paid for my panini, Wick said things that were so mature it made me question whether I was mature enough to be in Wick’s orbit. He said, “I’ve liked you for a while. We should do more stuff together.” And that’s when I realized that the granite quarry hadn’t been a coincidence. Because Wick said, “I asked Mr. Tober which field study you were doing.”
    After that our orbits merged, and we began going out for sushi, and turnovers, and foreign films. Pam used to say that falling in love is all about meeting the right person in the right circumstance. God, she was smart. Maybe I should call her and solicit some advice. She and Billy are still going strong. She must know something about interpreting male behavior that I don’t. I try to stop myself from thinking about Wick and guys. I force myself to get out of bed. I must get up.
    After contemplating getting dressed but deciding not to, I walk toward the kitchen. I should make some toast. Or pour a glass of orange juice. But I’m not hungry. I feel broken and empty in a way that doesn’t require food. When I reach the end of the hallway, it’s as if the kitchen phone wants to jump out of its cradle and leap into my hands. I pause at the doorjamb. If I called Wick right now, what would I say?
    “Wick, I think the universe has a plan for us.”
    “Wick, come over and I’ll let you eat marzipan off my body.”
    “Wick, one day I hope to have your babies. And you’re tall and I’m short and that’s going to hurt.”
    It’s such a good thing that Pam told me about the rubber-band principle. This breakup is hitting me like a wave. Two minutes ago I was reasonably okay. But now I’m not. Do not call Wick. Take a deep breath. Seek out some male perspective.
    “Enid, get out of my room.”
    Landon can be so annoying. As my brother, as my twin, he should want to talk to me. Even if it is six o’clock in the morning.
    “I didn’t sleep well,” I say.
    “I was doing fine until a few minutes ago.”
    “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
    Landon pulls his comforter over his head and rolls onto his stomach. He leaves a shoulder uncovered, and I can see underarm hair sprouting out of his pit.
    “Have you talked to Wick? Did he tell you what happened?”
    He doesn’t answer. I always assume that silence means yes.
    “I don’t think it’s a permanent break. He said we’d talk next week. But I’m a little worried about this party.”
    I sit at the foot of his bed.
    “Don’t you have any advice?” I ask. “By the way, I’m crying.”
    Landon rolls onto his back and pushes his comforter down so he can see my face.
    “Don’t cry,” he says.
    I wasn’t crying, but I frown dramatically so he thinks I’m more despondent than desperate. I want him to tell me everything he knows.
    “So you think it’s not permanent either?” I ask.
    He props himself up on his elbows. His hair is lying on top of his head in a flat brown mess. Somehow sleep has unwound his curls.
    “I have no idea what’s going on with Wick.”
    “So he hasn’t mentioned any other girls?”
    Landon doesn’t say anything.
    “Has he been talking about Simone? Because that would be so stupid. She lives hundreds of miles away. Maybe she’d be good for a fling or something. But with the price of gas these days, there’s no way that she’s girlfriend material, right?”
    Landon falls back onto his bed.
    “It’s too early for this,” he says.
    “So you think he’ll have a fling?” I ask.
    “You sound like Mom,” he says.
    I bite my lip and suck on it. I’m pretty much a normal teenager, and I don’t want to sound like my mother. Especially since mine is in the throes of a deeply dysfunctional relationship that even counseling doesn’t seem capable of setting