“He's right,you know," Edward was saying almost before I'd made it into my room. I had crept through the house unnecessarily. No one was home."Your assertions have lost a bit of their value these days, Mr. Willing.""You know," he repeated.I tossed my coat onto the bed. The stark black and white of my quilt was broken by a purple stain now, the result of a peaceful interlude with grape juice turning into a gentle wrestling match.The stain was the size of my palm and shaked like, I thought, an alligator. Alex insisted it was a map of Italy. Later, we'd dripped the rest of the juice onto the thick pages of my drawing pad, finding pictures in the splotches like the Rorschach inkblots used in psychology."Well," he'd said in response to my pagoda, antheater, and Viking, "verdict's in.You're nuts."The pictures were tacked to my wall, unaccustomed spots of color. I'd penciled in our choices. Viking (E), pineapple (A). Lantern (E), cheese (A). Crown (E), birthday cake (A) were over my desk, over Edward.I turned on my computer. It binged cheerfully at me. I had mail.From: [email protected]: [email protected]: December 15, 3:50 p.m.Subect: Should you choose to accept...Tuesday. I'll pick you up at 10:00 a.m. Ask no questions. Tell no one.-Alex"Ah, subterfuge" came from over the desk."Shut up, Edward," I said.”

“Now,standing under our beautiful monstrosity, I couldn't help thinking that if Alex were to kiss me, it would look like that: me small and blissful and clinging, him so much taller, completely enfolding me.I averted my red dace as I headed down the hall.My room is a quarter the size of his. It felt even smaller with him in it. "Make yourself at-"He'd plunked the snack on my desk, depositied his coat on my chair, and was already roaming the room, looking at the door knockers made to look like hands. "Cool.You are seriously good." He stared for a long time at the single study I'd put up from the Willing Romance Languages Room door: the leering devil. "I would put that on my wall," he said.I hadn't said anything while he browsed, swallowing all the automatic denials of my abilities.He turned and grinned at me, looking exactly like the little demon. No surprise, since it was essentially his face in miniature. "This is the part where you remove that tack and give me the picture.For keeps.""Are you serious?" I wasn't sure."Yes,Ella.I am serious."So I removed the tack and handed him the picture. He rolled it up very gently and put it in his coat pocket.”

“So,twice a week I have my own tutor," he said shortly. "Who,trust me, makes my father look like a marshmellow. And on that note..." He picked up the sheaf of French lessons again. "We'll start with the imperfect, used to express actions that are-""Incomplete,unfulfilled, or repeated over and over." I slumped back in the weird chair. "That I know."At the end of the very imperfect sessions, Alex gave me a full ten minutes in the downstairs bathroom before showing up.All I'd figured out what that Edward's faceless girl had had wide feet, and the Bainbridge's decorator had a preference for green that might merit an intervention."I could probably give you the stupid thing"-Alex gestured to the picture when he came in- "and my folks would never notice."I winced inwardly. "I can't advocate theft," I told him, "no matter how noble the intent.”

“Look, Ella..." He stared down at his hands, opening and closing his fists. I waited.I think we might have a little bit of a misunderstanding here...You're a nice girl and all,but...I really like you,but I don't really like you...The unmistakable notes of "Don't Stop Believin'," electronic version, suddenly filled my room, followed by the audible and visual treat of my phone vibrating its way across my desk toward Alex's hip. I flung myself on it. In a clear-headed moment, I would have just turned it off. As it was, I did manage a "Sorry!" to Alex before flipping it open/"Are you dead?" Frankie demanded from the other end."No." I edged away from Alex, who was very politely pretending to be interested in the biscotti."Are you even sick?""No," I admitted."Of course not. Okay, I'm coming over.""No!" I cringed as Alex jumped a little. I took a breath. "God, no. Don't. It's wedding central here. Sienna will have you trying up birdseed in little purple pouches."There was a long pause. "You okay, Marino?""Yeah," I managed."Truth time.Where were you today?"Could I do it? Could I actually use the word cramps with Alex Bainbridge standing three feet away? I could only imagine how the actual truth would sound. Here, in bed, hiding because I thought I'd made the queen of all fools out of myself e-mailing Alex Bainbridge over the break, and I can't even tell you about it because I promised...But it's okay-or maybe not-because he's here now, in my bedroom. ust about to tell me I made the queen of all fools out of myself. Sure. Come on over.The two of you can bond over my idiocy.”

“Well,that all worked out nicely," Edward said from my hand."Yup." I sat down and propped the postcard upright against my books. "Thanks.""Whatever for?""Being real,I guess. I'm pretty sure this paper about your life will get me into NYU.Which,when you think about it, is a pretty great gift from a guy I've never met who's been dead for a hundred years."Edward smiled. It was nice to see. "My pleasure,darling girl. I must say, I like this spark of confidence in you.""About time,huh?""Yes,well.Have you forgiven the Bainbridge boy?""For...?""For hiding you.""He wasn't.I was hiding me." I gave Edward a look before he could gloat. "Yeah,yeah. You've always been very wise. But this isn't really about my forgiving Alex,is it?"He had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "I suppose not. So?""So.I think you were a good guy, Edward. I think you probably would have told everyone exactly how you felt about Marina of you could have.If she hadn't been married, maybe, or if you'd lived longer. I think maybe all the pictures of you did of her were your public delcaration. Whaddya think? Can I write that? Is it the truth?""Oh,Ella." His face was sad again, just the way he'd cast it in bronze. But it was kinda bittersweet now, not as heartbroken. "I would give my right arm to be able to answer that for you.You know I would.""You don't have a right arm,Mr. Willing. Left,either." I picked up the card again. "Fuhgeddaboudit," I said to it. "I got this one covered."I tucked my Ravaged Man inside Collected Works. It would be there if I wanted it.Who knows. Maybe Edward Willing will come back into fashion someday,and maybe I'll fall for him all over again.In the meantime, I had another guy to deal with.I sat down in front of my computer.It took me thirty seconds to write the e-mail to Alex. Then it took a couple of hours-some staring, some pacing,an endless rehearsal dinner at Ralph's, and a TiVo'd Christmas special produced by Simon Cowell and Nigel Lythgoe with Nonna and popcorn-for me to hit Send.”

“Whatever you want," he said. "Will you please come here now?"I slipped a piece of protective tissue over my drawing and flipped the book closed. A piece of blue scratch paper slid out, the line I'd copied from Edward;s poetry book. "Hey. Translate for me, Monsieur Bainbridge."I set the sketchbook on my stool and joined him on the chaise. He tugged me onto his lap and read over his head. "'Qu'ieu sui avinen, leu lo sai.' 'That I am handsome, I know.""Verry funny.""Very true." He grinned. "The translation. That's what it says. Old-fashionedly."I thought of Edward's notation on the page, the reminder to read the poem to Diana in bed, and rolled my eyes. You're so vain.I bet you think this song is about you..."Boy and their egos."Alex cupped my face in his hands. "Que tu est belle, tu le sais.""Oh,I am not-""Shh," he shushed me, and leaned in.The first bell came way too soon. I reluctantly loosened my grip on his shirt and ran my hands over my hair. He prompty thrust both hands in and messed it up again. "Stop," I scolded, but without much force. "I have physics," he told me. "We're studying weak interaction."I sandwiched his open hand between mine. "You know absolutely nothing about that.""Don't be so quick to accept the obvious," he mock-scolded me. "Weak interaction can actually change the flavor of quarks."The flavor of quirks, I thought, and vaguely remembered something about being charmed. I'd sat through a term of introductory physics before switching to basic biology. I'd forgotten most of that as soon as I'd been tested on it,too."I gotta go." Alex pushed me to my feet and followed. "Last person to get to class always gets the first question, and I didn't do the reading.""Go," I told him. "I have history. By definition, we get to history late.""Ha-ha. I'll talk to you later." He kissed me again, then walked out, closing the door quietly behind him.”

“And just like that, I was officially In Deep:1. Interested in art. (Me, charcoal; him, colored ink).2. Not afraid of love. He's stuck with Cruella de Vil for a long time.3. Or of telling the truth. "Three things it costs a little to tell."4. Hot. Like, smokin'.5. Daring. Sharks. Ocean. He swims where Here Be Monsters.5, subsection a. Daring enough to take a chance on me.Oh,that one,always the glitch in If My Prince Does,In Fact, Come Someday, It Would Be Great If He Could Meet These Five Criteria. But I had one thing when it came to Alex that I'd never had with Edward. Hope. Well, that and a drunk e-mail.”