Some Kind of Wonderful Read Online Free Page A

picture the three of us lying out on matching plush terrycloth
     towels, rotating the direction of our chaise lounges in time with the sun. I'd pour drinks from a frosty pitcher of virgin
     daiquiris, Meredith would do all our hair up in crazy twists and knots, and Judith would follow us around with sunscreen.
     And the tropical sun would set on any unpleasant misunderstandings we'd had in the past.
    "Just so you know," Judith said, shaking me out of my reverie. "I would have totally killed you if you'd picked Meredith over
     me."
    We all laughed, but as I looked across the table, my stomach knotted. As SBB always wisely told me—that girl has a proverb
     for everything—every jest carries a glimmer of truth.

Chapter 3
    DATE NIGHT...WITH MY BODYGUARD?
    O n Saturday night, I was standing before my vanity a mirror, trying to figure out how to zip up the back of my new black knee-length dress, when Adam called to say he'd be at
     my place in twenty minutes. I calmly said I couldn't wait to see him, and then flipped into frantic primp mode.
    I wished Feb were home. I'd been her date prep assistant since I was seven years old and she went on her very first official
     date. His name was Trenton Tallard the Third, and he asked Feb to accompany him to his sister's wedding. I still remember
     the pink streaks she put in her hair and the fishnets she insisted on wearing, despite my mother's stern warning that "no
     respectable girl goes to Tavern on the Green dressed like Gwen Stefani." I sat next to Feb in front of her vanity while she
     painted both sets of our toenails with dark green NARS nail polish.
    Whenever I had trouble sleeping when I was a little kid, I used to imagine my own first date. I'd lie in bed and picture my
     own grown-up self, sitting in front of my vanity, switching the lighting setting to evening and primping and powdering so that my own Prince Charming would be blown away when he knocked on my front door with calla
     lilies.
    Little did I know then that the ideal date in a guy's universe didn't exactly include an arranged bouquet from Michael George
     and a carriage ride through Central Park. So far, I'd had my share of boyfriends, but Jonathan's idea of eighth grade courtship
     included buying me a large box of Hot Tamales and coming over with something from Netflix. And Bennett, my most recent ex,
     was very sweet, but his romantic overtures included me helping him leaf through racks of comic books in dusty comic book shops
     in the Village.
    Adam was different. He was super observant, so he was great at reading me and was always the first person to notice the little
     things—from a new haircut I'd gotten, to my embarrassing fear of cactuses, to the face I unintentionally made when I was ready
     to leave a party.
    Which is why it didn't surprise me that Adam actually remembered the date of our one-month anniversary, and thought to plan ahead since it fell during Thanksgiving weekend, and showed up on time with a bouquet of some really unique bright orange calla lilies.
    "Hey, Flan," he said, when I pulled open the front door. I loved that when he talked to me, his voice sounded totally different
     than it did when I heard him calling out football plays on the field. "You look really nice," he said.
    "Thanks," I said. It still made me blush when he complimented me, but suddenly I was glad I'd done more than just slick on
     some ChapStick and throw on a pair of jeans like I usually did when we hung out. I'd actually gotten a manicure at Bliss that
     morning, and I used the good Frederic Fekkai hair mask, too. The dress I was wearing (I'd finally managed to zip it up) was
     from 202, which is probably my favorite store in the city. It's a trendy brunch spot slash chic clothing store. You can gorge
     yourself on lemon ricotta pancakes and not even have to leave your seat to do some of the best window-shopping in Chelsea.
    "Ready to go?" Adam asked.
    I nodded and turned around to give my Pomeranian, Noodles,