Emily Franklin - Principles Of Love 06 - Labor Of Love by Emily Franklin Page B
Book: Emily Franklin - Principles Of Love 06 - Labor Of Love by Emily Franklin
Read Free Book Online
Authors: Emily Franklin
Ads: Link
were on topics ranging from love to music to sex.
"We can keep the contents of those to ourselves," I say. "We're going to be seniors."
"Hard to believe."
Then, because it's time and because I want to make everything clear--to him and to myself--I say, "I have a boyfriend."
Jacob hops off the car."I know." He's not sad, not angry, just matter-of-fact. Before I can ask how, he stands in the middle of the bumper floor with his hands in his pockets. "I saw you guys. On the beach once. I knew you were back--and I figured you'd get in touch when you were ready."
"I didn't mean to . . ." I stop myself.What didn't I mean to do? Miss our moment together at Crescent--again? Tell him on the phone that I was seeing someone? "I don't know why I didn't call you right away when I got back." He laughs, which confuses me."What?"
"Nothing. It's just . . ." He motions for me to come with him. I get up and follow him over the bumper fence and onto the grass. The sky is pink now, with lemony streaks around the horizon line. Sunset. I look at Jacob. Together, we're the image of summer love. Make that sinset, not sunset.
&&( :b^an;gVc`a^c
But we're not a couple and nothing's happened. "Love--I knew you were back because I saw you a couple of times. In random places--the market, South Beach, that Hadley party you and Chris showed up at for ten seconds."
"They were playing bad music and the crowd was not my . . ." How do I phrase this so as not to offend him? He became the big-shot guy on campus while I was in Lon don, and even though his best friend, Dalton Himmelman, is a constant, there are other people. People he might have ignored in his prior incarnation as left-of-center guy who are now his friends. Like Rich Halbertam and Nick Samu els and Jon Rutter. The very cool set. The few guys who can float between all the crowds--blend seamlessly into the wealthy, the weird, the academic aces, the ironically clothed, the beautiful and brainy alike. Rich, Nick, and Jon are in triguing, but the girls who follow them around sometimes leave a bit to be desired. My theory is that their match in cool and adaptability--girls like Harriet Walters, Chili, or-- ahem--even me--won't get their attention until college. Or later in life.And by then we might have moved on."I'm not big into the mean girls of Fruckner."
"You can just say her name, Love."
"Fine. Lindsay Parrish is a walking nightmare.And I don't need to rip into her for reasons--I'm not that girl. . . ."
"I know you're not.You're not catty. I don't think that.
&&) AVWdgd[AdkZ
So that's why you left that party? I thought maybe you saw me or something and bolted."
"No," I laugh and shake my head as we walk past the pigs.
"Sometimes," Jacob says, putting his hands on the fence as the animals oink,"I think I'm done with being human--just for a day I'd like to know what these porcine creatures think. These rolling tubs of lard--they have it good. No lovelorn songs, no college apps, no wondering what'll happen in the future."
"Ever heard of bacon?" I ask, feeling like Fern from Charlotte's Web.Aunt Mable read that book to me at least ten times and I still love it.
"Here." Jacob pulls me by the sleeve until we're near one of the food vendors.
"Slush, sno-cone, pizza--it all sounds good," I say and tap the side of the fried dough cart."But they're closed."
"Hang on." Jacob disappears behind the row of food ve hicles. In his absence, everything shifts from slightly romantic to slightly eerie. Funny how perspective can do that--one minute it's a Linklater dialogue�driven movie and then next I'm the heroine about to have her own fear-fest.Why does my brain do that? Is it the writer in me? Or is my mind tell ing me things--yes. Suddenly I get it.Whatever it is you're imagining comes from you, so it means something. With
&&* :b^an;gVc`a^c
Jacob, my two visions are either our banter--banal but laced with undertones of feelings--or scary. Maybe I'm afraid of being with
"We can keep the contents of those to ourselves," I say. "We're going to be seniors."
"Hard to believe."
Then, because it's time and because I want to make everything clear--to him and to myself--I say, "I have a boyfriend."
Jacob hops off the car."I know." He's not sad, not angry, just matter-of-fact. Before I can ask how, he stands in the middle of the bumper floor with his hands in his pockets. "I saw you guys. On the beach once. I knew you were back--and I figured you'd get in touch when you were ready."
"I didn't mean to . . ." I stop myself.What didn't I mean to do? Miss our moment together at Crescent--again? Tell him on the phone that I was seeing someone? "I don't know why I didn't call you right away when I got back." He laughs, which confuses me."What?"
"Nothing. It's just . . ." He motions for me to come with him. I get up and follow him over the bumper fence and onto the grass. The sky is pink now, with lemony streaks around the horizon line. Sunset. I look at Jacob. Together, we're the image of summer love. Make that sinset, not sunset.
&&( :b^an;gVc`a^c
But we're not a couple and nothing's happened. "Love--I knew you were back because I saw you a couple of times. In random places--the market, South Beach, that Hadley party you and Chris showed up at for ten seconds."
"They were playing bad music and the crowd was not my . . ." How do I phrase this so as not to offend him? He became the big-shot guy on campus while I was in Lon don, and even though his best friend, Dalton Himmelman, is a constant, there are other people. People he might have ignored in his prior incarnation as left-of-center guy who are now his friends. Like Rich Halbertam and Nick Samu els and Jon Rutter. The very cool set. The few guys who can float between all the crowds--blend seamlessly into the wealthy, the weird, the academic aces, the ironically clothed, the beautiful and brainy alike. Rich, Nick, and Jon are in triguing, but the girls who follow them around sometimes leave a bit to be desired. My theory is that their match in cool and adaptability--girls like Harriet Walters, Chili, or-- ahem--even me--won't get their attention until college. Or later in life.And by then we might have moved on."I'm not big into the mean girls of Fruckner."
"You can just say her name, Love."
"Fine. Lindsay Parrish is a walking nightmare.And I don't need to rip into her for reasons--I'm not that girl. . . ."
"I know you're not.You're not catty. I don't think that.
&&) AVWdgd[AdkZ
So that's why you left that party? I thought maybe you saw me or something and bolted."
"No," I laugh and shake my head as we walk past the pigs.
"Sometimes," Jacob says, putting his hands on the fence as the animals oink,"I think I'm done with being human--just for a day I'd like to know what these porcine creatures think. These rolling tubs of lard--they have it good. No lovelorn songs, no college apps, no wondering what'll happen in the future."
"Ever heard of bacon?" I ask, feeling like Fern from Charlotte's Web.Aunt Mable read that book to me at least ten times and I still love it.
"Here." Jacob pulls me by the sleeve until we're near one of the food vendors.
"Slush, sno-cone, pizza--it all sounds good," I say and tap the side of the fried dough cart."But they're closed."
"Hang on." Jacob disappears behind the row of food ve hicles. In his absence, everything shifts from slightly romantic to slightly eerie. Funny how perspective can do that--one minute it's a Linklater dialogue�driven movie and then next I'm the heroine about to have her own fear-fest.Why does my brain do that? Is it the writer in me? Or is my mind tell ing me things--yes. Suddenly I get it.Whatever it is you're imagining comes from you, so it means something. With
&&* :b^an;gVc`a^c
Jacob, my two visions are either our banter--banal but laced with undertones of feelings--or scary. Maybe I'm afraid of being with
Similar Books
