Lovestruck Summer by Melissa Walker (best management books of all time txt) đź“•
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- Author: Melissa Walker
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42 says mysteriously. “Don’t make plans for Friday night.”I try to press her for the rest of the day, but she won’t tell me who this “need to meet”person is . . . although she does tell me he’s a guy. At the end of the day, she fi nally caves a little. “His name is Sebastian,”she says. “And he is smoking hot.”That’s all I need to hear. I cannot wait for Friday.
43 Chapter 5 The rest of the week goes by really slowly. I realize that my assumption about Penny’s gro- cery shopping habits was only partially correct. She does indeed shop, but she buys only fruit and candy. It’s like this weird mix—apples, Sour Patch Kids, honeybell oranges, Sno-Caps, grapes, gummy bears, bananas . . . I may turn into a sugar-craving citrus animal if I don’t get some protein soon. I email Mom and Dad to tell them all about Amalgam and how much I’m going to learn about the “real world”this summer, leaving out the part about my internship being one day a week and my diet consisting of things that I’d eat if I were the love child of Willy Wonka and Chiquita Banana. I read a few guidebooks to Austin but realize that I have no way to get
44 anywhere I want to go without a car. Penny has to use the BMW for the rest of the week, and I’d feel sheepish borrowing it all the time anyway. Luckily, the condo’s just a few blocks from campus, and by Friday afternoon, I’ve fi gured out the easiest way to walk there. I’m ready to leave my air-conditioned sanctuary. I think. I load up my backpack with my iPod, a snack (a honeybell), a blanket, and two books on my personal summer-reading list. Oh, and a big-ass bottle of water. When I reach campus, my water’s almost gone. I fi nd a drinking fountain and refi ll my SIGG before I spread out on the fi rst big stretch of grass I fi nd. Under a tree. I can’t risk getting sun, and I’ve never been into tanning. Besides, did I mention it’s a thousand degrees outside? It is. There are lots of students around, but I’m sure the crowds are much bigger during the year. Summer is always the best season in a col- lege town, when the student population thins out a little. “Hey, hey, Priscilla!”I hear a deep twang behind me. I guess the population hasn’t thinned out enough.
45 “Russ,”I say, pulling out my headphones and tucking my iPod into my bag so he won’t see that I’m listening to the Walters. He sits down on the edge of my blanket by my outstretched feet. As if he’s welcome. I remember that Penny told me that Russ is on campus most days, fi nishing up some paper for a class, which he didn’t turn in on time last semester—he needs it to become a senior next year. “Haven’t seen you around this week,”he says. “You been working hard at Amalgam?”“Yeah,”I say. “It keeps me busy.”“So, are you riding the bus all the way to South Congress every day?”he asks, naming the street Amalgam is on. I wonder how much I should lie here. I look back at him. His smile widens and he swats my out- stretched foot, knocking off my fl ip-fl op. Then he laughs and lies down on his back in the grass at my feet, raising his arms to cross his hands behind his head. How often does he have to work out to get that kind of bicep defi nition? “I know you’re only there on Mondays,”
46 says Russ. “Penny told me.”“Well, I worked really hard on Monday,”I say defensively, chastising myself internally for even noticing his sculpted muscles. “And I’ve been busy the rest of the week.”“So busy you can’t even come next door to hang out?”he asks, leaning up on one arm and looking at me sideways. He tucks a blade of grass in his mouth and starts to chew on it. Like a cow. “I’ve had my own stuff going on,”I say. The truth is, “my own stuff”has been a lot of time online with my headphones on. When Penny goes out, she always invites me, but Chrissy and the Tri-Pis are not my people. Nor is Russ for that matter. I’ve been bonding with Miss Tiara though—she nuzzles next to me on the couch while I listen to music. And I have to agree with Penny: She does seem happiest in dresses. “Fair enough, Priscilla,”says Russ, lying back again with a maddening grin. “But I don’t think you want to spend all summer stuck in that apartment.”“What are you suggesting?”I ask. Because, well, I sort of agree with him.
47 “You must have some money saved up if you’re working a no-pay internship,”he says. “Why don’t I take you down to Albie’s to get yourself a beater.”“A what?”I ask. “A beater,”he says, still staring at the sky and chewing on that mutilated blade of grass. “A clunker of a car you can drive around for the summer and sell back to him in August when you leave.”I consider the idea. It’s not a bad one,
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