totally normal, even after you figured out who my parents are.”
“Was I supposed to bow or something?” Okay, stop me
now
. He’s going to think I’m the most evil, most smart-assed—
And then he kisses me.
Not a big, deep kiss, just a quick, soft kiss. Almost polite, but not quite. I mean, there’s definitely more behind it than the David cheek kiss, and not just because this one’s on the lips.
And the worst part is, it’s over before I can even think about it.
“Um, I guess that’s a no,” I manage.
“It’s definitely a no. I hate when people bow.” He gives me this lopsided, embarrassed smile, and for a second I wonder if he’s going to kiss me again. This time I’m definitely going to kiss back.
Definitely.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and he shakes his head. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”
I try not to let my mouth hang open. I’m stunned. Why the hell shouldn’t he have done it? Because it’s improper or something? Because I’m butt ugly and he had a momentary lapse of judgment?
Or because I totally screwed up the simplest kiss and he doesn’t want me to think it’s going to happen again, because there’s no way on God’s green earth his lips will ever come within a mile of my icky ones again?
He lets go of my hand and leans back in his chair, tilting on the rear legs so his shoulders are braced against the wall. “It’s just … everyone I’ve ever met treats me differently. People who I know, just
know
in here”—he points to his chest—“don’t really like me, but are always nice to me. I hate that. I hate that everyone is fake with me all the time. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who’s not.”
I’m not sure what to say, so I just sit there looking like a total nimrod until he adds, “I just wanted to make sure you knewwho I really am. Before you get to know everyone else at school, you know, and you see how they treat me and think that’s how you have to treat me.”
I’m trying to absorb what he’s telling me, really. But all I can think about is the fact he kissed me, and what I can say to make him realize it wasn’t a mistake.
“Hey, no problem,” I say, “as long as all the people around here don’t mind that I have no sense of what’s proper”—I make a gesture encompassing the palace—“which is kind of funny, when you think about it, since knowing what’s proper is my dad’s whole job.”
Georg laughs and stands up, so I do too. I guess in his mind, the conversation’s over. There’s this look of relief on his face, and I can actually feel the beat of my heart all the way in my ears.
And then he gives me a hug. It’s all warm and tight and I can feel the muscles of his arms against my back.
Do people still swoon? Or is that considered out? ’Cause I feel a definite swoon coming on.
I start to turn my mouth toward his,but before I can, he says, right into my ear, “Thanks, Valerie. You have no idea how much it means to me that I can be myself with you. I really want us to be good friends.”
Seven
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: YOU
Hey Valeria,
You do know that you are living under the same roof as a prince named GEORG, don’t you? And that his parents are named MANFRED and CLAUDIA? How whacked is THAT?!?!
While Claudia is okay (but only because of Claudia Schiffer), I think that Manfred is probably the stupidest name ever given to a human being. Fred is bad enough, but MAN-fred?? How did thie guysurvive childhood? If he was my brother, I’d hava beat the crap out of him.
Anyway, I just wanted you to know I’m jealous as hell, because Georg looks like he’d be the best kisser in the universe. Track his gorgeous butt down and tell him I want to find out, okay? You’re more than welcome to give him my e-mail address and phone number.
But don’t tell him I work at Wendy’s.
And write back to me soon. Vienna is the most boring place on the entire planet.
Jules
It takes
“Was I supposed to bow or something?” Okay, stop me
now
. He’s going to think I’m the most evil, most smart-assed—
And then he kisses me.
Not a big, deep kiss, just a quick, soft kiss. Almost polite, but not quite. I mean, there’s definitely more behind it than the David cheek kiss, and not just because this one’s on the lips.
And the worst part is, it’s over before I can even think about it.
“Um, I guess that’s a no,” I manage.
“It’s definitely a no. I hate when people bow.” He gives me this lopsided, embarrassed smile, and for a second I wonder if he’s going to kiss me again. This time I’m definitely going to kiss back.
Definitely.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and he shakes his head. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”
I try not to let my mouth hang open. I’m stunned. Why the hell shouldn’t he have done it? Because it’s improper or something? Because I’m butt ugly and he had a momentary lapse of judgment?
Or because I totally screwed up the simplest kiss and he doesn’t want me to think it’s going to happen again, because there’s no way on God’s green earth his lips will ever come within a mile of my icky ones again?
He lets go of my hand and leans back in his chair, tilting on the rear legs so his shoulders are braced against the wall. “It’s just … everyone I’ve ever met treats me differently. People who I know, just
know
in here”—he points to his chest—“don’t really like me, but are always nice to me. I hate that. I hate that everyone is fake with me all the time. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who’s not.”
I’m not sure what to say, so I just sit there looking like a total nimrod until he adds, “I just wanted to make sure you knewwho I really am. Before you get to know everyone else at school, you know, and you see how they treat me and think that’s how you have to treat me.”
I’m trying to absorb what he’s telling me, really. But all I can think about is the fact he kissed me, and what I can say to make him realize it wasn’t a mistake.
“Hey, no problem,” I say, “as long as all the people around here don’t mind that I have no sense of what’s proper”—I make a gesture encompassing the palace—“which is kind of funny, when you think about it, since knowing what’s proper is my dad’s whole job.”
Georg laughs and stands up, so I do too. I guess in his mind, the conversation’s over. There’s this look of relief on his face, and I can actually feel the beat of my heart all the way in my ears.
And then he gives me a hug. It’s all warm and tight and I can feel the muscles of his arms against my back.
Do people still swoon? Or is that considered out? ’Cause I feel a definite swoon coming on.
I start to turn my mouth toward his,but before I can, he says, right into my ear, “Thanks, Valerie. You have no idea how much it means to me that I can be myself with you. I really want us to be good friends.”
Seven
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: YOU
Hey Valeria,
You do know that you are living under the same roof as a prince named GEORG, don’t you? And that his parents are named MANFRED and CLAUDIA? How whacked is THAT?!?!
While Claudia is okay (but only because of Claudia Schiffer), I think that Manfred is probably the stupidest name ever given to a human being. Fred is bad enough, but MAN-fred?? How did thie guysurvive childhood? If he was my brother, I’d hava beat the crap out of him.
Anyway, I just wanted you to know I’m jealous as hell, because Georg looks like he’d be the best kisser in the universe. Track his gorgeous butt down and tell him I want to find out, okay? You’re more than welcome to give him my e-mail address and phone number.
But don’t tell him I work at Wendy’s.
And write back to me soon. Vienna is the most boring place on the entire planet.
Jules
It takes
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