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here u go wid the nxt chptr..njoy!!
chapter ten
It's better this way. It is.
As the days pass, I realize that I'm glad I met his
girlfriend. It's actually a relief. There are few things
worse than having feelings for someone you shouldn't,
and I don't like where my thoughts were headed. And I
certainly don't want to be another Amanda Spitterton-
Watts.
zain is just friendly. The whole school likes
him"the professeurs, the popular kids, the unpopular
kids"and why wouldn't they? He's smart and funny
and polite. And, yes, ridiculously attractive. Although,
for being so well liked, he doesn't hang out with many
people. Just our little group. And since his best friend
is usually distracted by Aayat, he's taken to hanging
out with, well . . . me.
Since our night out, he's sat next to me at every
meal. He teases me about sneakers, asks about my
favorite films, and conjugates my French homework.
And he defends me. Like last week in physics when
Amanda called me la moufette in a nasty way and held
her nose as I walked by her desk, Zain told her to
"bugger off" and threw tiny wads of paper into her hair
for the rest of class.
I looked up the word later, and it means "skunk."
So original.
But then, just as I feel those twinges again, he
disappears. I'll be staring out my window after dinner,
watching the sanitation workers tidy the street in their
bright green uniforms, when he'll emerge from our
dorm and vanish toward the mtro.
Toward Sanam.
Most nights I'm studying in the lobby with our
other friends when he comes home. He'll plop down
beside me and crack a joke about whatever drunken
junior is hitting on the girl behind the front desk.
(There's always a drunken junior hitting on the girl
behind the front desk.) And is it my imagination, or is
his hair more disheveled than usual?
The thought of Zain and Sanam doing"things"
makes me more jealous than I care to admit. Rehan and
I email, but the messages have never been more than
friendly. I don't know if this means he's still interested
or if it means he's not, but I do know that emailing is
not the same as kissing. Or things.
The only one who understands the Zain
situation is Shazia, but I can't say anything to her.
Sometimes I'm afraid she might be jealous of me. Like
I'll catch her watching the two of us at lunch, and when
I ask her to pass me a napkin, she'll kind of chuck it at
me instead. Or when Zain doodles bananas and
elephants into the margins of my homework, she'll
grow rigid and silent.
Maybe I'm doing her a favor. I'm stronger than
she is, since I haven't known him as long. Since he's
always been off-limits. I mean, poor Shazia. Any girl faced
with daily attention from a gorgeous boy with a cute
accent and perfect hair would be hard-pressed not to
develop a big, stinking, painful, all-the-time, allconsuming
crush.
Not that that's what's happening to me.
Like I said. It's a relief to know it won't happen. It
makes things easier. Most girls laugh too hard at his
jokes and find excuses to gently press his arm. To
touch him. Instead, I argue and roll my eyes and act
indifferent. And when I touch his arm, I shove it.
Because that's what friends do.
Besides, I have more important things on my
mind: movies.
I've been in France for a month, and though I
have ridden the elevators to the top of La Tour Eiffel
(Shazia took me while Zain and Aayat waited below
on the lawn"Zain because he's afraid of falling and
Aayat because she refuses to do anything touristy),
and though I have walked the viewing platform of L'Arc
de Triomphe (Shaz took me again, of course, while Zain stayed below and threatened to push Rizwan and
Aayat into the insane traffic circle), I still haven't
been to the movies.
Actually, I have yet to leave campus alone. Kind
of embarrassing.
But I have a plan. First, I'll convince someone to
go to a theater with me. Shouldn't be too difficult;
everyone likes the movies. And then I'll take notes on
everything they say and do, and then I'll be
comfortable going back to that theater alone. And one
theater is better than no theaters.
"Aayat. What are you doing tonight?"
We're waiting for La Vie to begin. Last week we
learned about the importance of eating locally grown
food, and before that, how to write a college
application essay. Who knows what they'll drag out
today? Shaz and Riz are the only ones not here,
Riz because he's a junior, and Shaz because she's
taking that extra language class, advanced Spanish. For
fun. Craziness.
Aayat taps her pen against her notebook. She's
been working on her essay to Brown for two weeks
now. It's one of the only universities to offer an
Egyptology degree, and the only one she wants to
attend. "You don't understand," she said, when I'd
asked why she hadn't finished it yet. "Brown turns
away eighty percent of its applicants."
But I doubt she'll have any problems. She hasn't
received less than an A on anything this year, and the
majority were perfect scores. I've already mailed in my
college applications. It'll be a while before I hear back,
but I'm not worried. They weren't Ivy League.
I'm trying to be friendly, but it's tricky. Last
night, while I was petting her rabbit, Isis, Aayat
reminded me twice not to tell anyone about her,
because animals are against dorm rules. As if I'd tattle.
Besides, it's not like Isis is a secret. The smell of bunny
pee outside her door is unmistakable.
"Nothing, I guess," she says, in response to my
question about her evening.
I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. It's
ridiculous how difficult a question can be when the
answer means so much. "Wanna go to the movies?
They're showing It Happened One Night at Le Champo."
Just because I haven't gone out doesn't mean I haven't
pored over the glorious Pariscope.
"They're showing what? And I'm not gonna tell
you how badly you just butchered that theater's name."
"It Happened One Night. Clark Gable and
Claudette Colbert. Won five Academy Awards. It was a
big deal."
"In what century?"
"Ha ha. Honestly, you'll like it. I hear it's great."
Aayat rubs her temples. "I don't know. I don't
really like old movies. The acting is so, Hey buddy, ol'
pal. Let's go wear our hats and have a big
misunderstanding.'"
"Aw, come off it." Zain looks up from a thick
book about the American Revolution. He sits on my
other side. It's weird to think he knows more American
history than I do. "Isn't that the charm? The hats and
the misunderstandings?"
"So why don't you go with her?" aayat asks.
"Because he's going out with Sanam," I say.
"How do you know what I'm doing tonight?" he
asks.
"Please?" I beg her. "Pretty please? You'll like it, I
swear. So will Riz and Shaz."
Aayat opens her mouth to protest just as the
teacher arrives. Every week it's someone new"
sometimes administration, sometimes a professeur.
This time, I'm surprised to see Nate. I guess all staff
members are forced to take a turn. He rubs his shaved
head and smiles pleasantly at our class.
"How do you know what I'm doing tonight?" Zain repeats.
"Pleeease," I say to her.
She gives a resigned grimace. "Fine. But I'm
picking the next movie."
Yippee!
Nate clears his throat, and Aayat and Zain
look up. That's one thing I like about my new friends.
They respect the teachers. It drives me nuts to see
students talk back or ignore them, because my mom is
a teacher. I wouldn't want anyone being rude to her.
"All right, people, enough. Amanda, enough." In his
quiet but firm way, Nate shuts her up. She flips her
hair and sighs, with a glance toward Zain.
He ignores her. Ha.
"I have a surprise for you," Nate says. "Since the
weather is turning, and there aren't many warm days
left, I've arranged for you guys to spend the week
outdoors."
We're going outside for class credit. I love Paris!
"I've organized a scavenger hunt." Nate holds up
a stack of papers. "There are two hundred items on
this list.You'll be able to find them all in our
neighborhood, but you may have to ask the locals for
help."
Oh hell no.
"You'll be taking pictures of the items, and you'll
be working in two teams."
Phew! Someone else can talk to the locals.
"The winning team will be determined by the
total number of items found, but I'll need to find
photos on everyone's phone or camera, if you expect to
earn credit."
NOOO.
"There's a prize." Nate smiles again, now that he
finally has everyone's attention. "The team that finds
the most items by the end of Thursday's class . . . gets
to skip class on Friday."
Now that might be worth it. The classroom
erupts in whistles and clapping. Nate picks captains
based on who begs for it the loudest. Steve Carver"the
guy with the faux-surfer hair"and Amanda's best
friend, Nicole, are chosen. Aayat and I groan in a rare
moment of camaraderie. Steve pumps a fist in the air.
What a meathead.
The selecting begins, and Amanda is chosen first.
Of course. And then Steve's best friend. Of course.
Aayat elbows me. "Bet you five euros I'm picked last."
"I'll take that bet. Because it's totally me."
Amanda turns in her seat toward me and lowers
her voice. "That's a safe bet, Skunk Girl. Who'd want
you on their team?"
My jaw unhinges stupidly.
"St.Clair!" Steve's voice startles me. It figures
that St. Clair would be picked early. Everyone looks at
him, but he's staring down Amanda. "Me," he says, in
answer to her question. "I want Aaliya on my team, and
you'd be lucky to have her."
She flushes and quickly turns back around, but
not before shooting me another dagger. What have I
ever done to her?
More names are called. More names that are NOT
mine. St. Clair tries to get my attention, but I pretend I
don't notice. I can't bear to look at him. I'm too
humiliated. Soon the selection is down to me, Aayat,
and a skinny dude who, for whatever reason, is called
Cheeseburger. Cheeseburger is always wearing this
expression of surprise, like someone's just called his name, and he can't figure out where the voice is
coming from.
"aayat," Nicole says without hesitation.
My heart sinks. Now it's between me and
someone named Cheeseburger. I focus my attention
down on my desk, at the picture of me that Rizwan drew
earlier today in history. I'm dressed like a medieval
peasant (we're studying the Black Plague), and I have a
fierce scowl and a dead rat dangling from one hand.
Amanda whispers into Steve's ear. I feel her
smirking at me, and my face burns.
Steve clears his throat. "Cheeseburger."
here u go wid this chptr as well.. hope u all will like it!!:)
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