“It was Day Three, Freshman Year, and I was a little bit lost in the school library,looking for a bathroom that wasn't full of blindingly shiny sophomores checking their lip gloss.Day Three.Already pretty clear on the fact that I would be using secondary bathrooms for at least the next three years,until being a senior could pass for confidence.For the moment, I knew no one,and was too shy to talk to anyone. So that first sight of Edward: pale hair that looked like he'd just run his hands through it, paint-smeared white shirt,a half smile that was half wicked,and I was hooked.Since, "Hi,I'm Ella.You look like someone I'd like to spend the rest of my life with," would have been totally insane, I opted for sitting quietly and staring.Until the bell rang and I had to rush to French class,completely forgetting to pee.Edward Willing.Once I knew his name, the rest was easy.After all,we're living in the age of information. Wikipedia, iPhones, 4G ntworks, social networking that you can do from a thousand miles away.The upshot being that at any given time over the next two years, I could sit twenty feet from him in the library, not saying a word, and learn a lot about him.ENough, anyway, for me to become completely convinced that the Love at First Sight hadn't been a fluke.It's pretty simple.Edward matched four and a half of my If My Prince Does, In Fact, Come Someday,It Would Be Great If He Could Meet These Five Criteria.1. Interested in art. For me, it's charcoal. For Edward, oil paint and bronze. That's almost enough right there. Nice lips + artist= Ella's prince.2. Not afraid of love. He wrote, "Love is one of two things worth dying for.I have yet to decide on the second."3.Or of telling the truth. "How can I believe that other people say if I lie to them?"4.Hot. Why not?I can dream.5.Daring. Mountain climbing, cliff dying, defying the parents. Him, not me. I'm terrified of an embarrassing number of things, including heights, convertibles, moths, and those comedians everyone loves who stand onstage and yell insults at the audience.5, subsection a. Daring enough to take a chance on me.Of course, in the end, that No. 5a is the biggie. And the problem. No matter how muuch I worshipped him,no matter how good a pair we might have been,it was never, ever going to happen. To be fair to Edward,it's not like he was given an opportunity to get to know me. I'm not stupid.I know there are a few basic truths when it comes to boys and me.Truth: You have to talk to a boy-really talk,if you want him to see past the fact that you're not beautiful.Truth: I'm not beautiful. Or much of a conversationalist.Truth: I'm not entirely sure that the stuff behind the not-beautiful is going to be all that alluring, either.And one written-in-stone, heartbreaking truth about this guy.Truth:Edward Willing died in 1916.”
“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.”
“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.”
“There was something written in pencil in the bottom corner, smudged and faded. I leaned in until my nose was almost pressed against the glass. Narnia, it looked like.I must have stared for a lot longer than it seemed.A tap on the door had my jumping. "Ella?" A second later. "Um...Ella? You okay in there?"Alex looked red-faced and startled when I jerked the door open. Even more so when I grabbed his wrist with both of my hands and pulled him into the bathroom. Another time,I might have been equally red-faced. I would definitely have been uncomfortable, even if it wasn't in a bad way. But at the moment,I was too busy in a different part of my head.I let go of him and pointed to the sketch. "That's a Willing.""Is it?" He didn't look particularly impressed. More relieved that I hadn't fallen and hit my head or had some similar mishap."Edward Willing. You have to know who Edward Willing is."He peered past me. "Philadelphia painter. Early twentieth century, right? I was in your art history class last year,you know."I didn't.Not really. "You were?""I sat in back.You sat in front. Never saw your face during class,but I remember you arguing with Evers about Dali.I remember. You don't like Dali.""Not much.""You like this guy?""Yeah." I took a breath. "Yeah.I do. And you have one of his sketches. In your guest bathroom.”
“Look.I'm...uh...When you told me you'd looked at my stuff.I didn't...I shouldn't have..."What is it about those two words-I'm sorry-that makes otherwise articulate guys into babbling idiots? I mean, I love you, I get. That's a tough one, putting yourself so completely, nakedly out there. I haven't ever said that to a guy. A guy other than Frankie or my dad, anyway. But I'm sorry? I say it twenty times a day.To Nonna, when I just can't face a three-course breakfast at seven in the morning, to the half-dozen people I bump into on my frantic rush up those eight blocks to school. To Sadie, for having to copy her algebra homework for,like,the thousandth time, because I didn't get to mine.I'm still waiting for Leo to apologize for totalling my bike three years ago. I forgave him eventually. Riding a bike in the middle of the city is a little like playing RUssian roulette with a bus. Still, it would have been nice t have gotten an I'm sorry instead of a litany of excuses. I figure I'll be waiting forever.”
“Oh,Ella. I wish you'd had a better time at the ball.""Fuhgeddaboudit," I muttered. Greaseball. Freddy. Freak. "It's not like she and I were ever going to be BFFs.""I wasn't just referring to Amanda."Of course he wasn't."I'll try," I moaned into the crook of my elbow. "Oh, Lord.I'll try to carry on.""That sounds rather dramatic, even for you.""It's Styx," I told him. "After your time, before mine. I don't know all the words,but those work for the moment. And for the record, I'm being ironic, not dramatic.""If you say so."I ignored him. "I have had my last flutter over Alex Bainbridge. I mean it. Frankie was right.How many signs do I need that we are never, ever going to have...anything...before I get it? Obviously, it doesn't matter that we realte to the same schizo seventies songs. Or that we can discuss antique Japanese woodblock prints. Or that when he sits next to me, he kinda takes my breath away. You would think that would count for a lot,wouldn't you?"Edward gets the concept of rhetorical questions, so I went on. "I wouldn't even want to hazard a guess about what makes Amanda's pulse go all skittery, but I would bet anything it's not Alex. And he's still with her. He doesn't belong with her, but apparently he feels he belongs to her. Explain that,please.""Oh,Ella.We men are not always the best at looking beyond the...er...""Boobs,Edward. You can say it. Amanda Alstead has boobs and blonda hair. Beyond that, I can't see a single thing that's special about her.""Because there isn't a single thing. Beyond the...er, obvious. You,on the other hand,are a creature of infinite charms. Shall I list them alphabetically or from the top down?"I scowled up at him. "Y'know, you are beginning to sound a little too much like Frankie and Sadie,my deluded Greek chorus.""yes,well,I rather thought that's what friends are for.""You're not supposed to be my friend," I muttered. "You're supposed to be my Prince Charming.""Ahem." Edward's sculpted lips compressed into a grim line. "Have you looked at me lately? I am supposed to be startling and even a bit scary.""Nope.Neither." I rested my chin on my forearm. "To me,you are perfect. You are loyal and reliable and completely lacking in surprises.""That is a good thing?""Absolutely," I said. "It's an excellent thing.I don't want any more surprises, over.""Hardly an admirable goal,that.""Maybe not," I agreed, "but pleasant. Among all the other bizarreness tonight, I found something new to be afraid of. Evil girlfriends.""Now,Ella. You can't go on being afraid forever.""Oh,yes,I can. As far as Amanda Alstead is concerned, I can."Edward tilted his head and studied me for a moment. He looked annoyed. "Why do you insist on having these conversations with me when you ignore everything I have to say?"It was a pretty good question. "Fine." I sat up straight and folded my hands in my lap. Home Truth time. "Go ahead. On this night when we celebrate the mysteries of life and death..Say something profound, something startling."There was a long silence. Then, "Boo," Edward said."Thank you,Mr. Willing.""Don't mention it, Miss Marino. I am yours to command.”
“I like your hair," he said quietly, "but I think you'd look good whatever you did with it."Here's the thing.He looked like he meant it, and like it had been the most natural thing in the world to say. I blinked at him."Okay," I said. "You want to know something about me that I don't really want to tell you? How about this. I dont get it.This.I hate that I don't. I wish I were the kind of girl who took guys like you as my sovereign right in life. But I don't.""Yeah,I've sorta figured that out,too." He let go of my hair and put his hand on my waist, so his thumb was against my skin. I shivered. "Here's my first reveal for the night. One day, not so long ago, I'm just sitting in the dining room, digesting, minding my own business-literally. Trying to decide whether the second hamburger had been such a good idea and whether to break up with my girlfriend of a year and a half. Then I try to stand up, and suddenly there's this really pretty girl doubled over and looking at my book like it was covered with crap-""I wasn't.""Yeah.You were. So there you were, with that amazing face and a yard of hair that smelled like flowers, and all this stuff drawn on your jeans. I really liked that.""You liked my jeans.""Among other things.But, jeez, Ella. After that, if you weren't making me feel like I had the IQ of a stone, your friends were looking at me like I'd crawled out from under one. I won't even go into what you obviously think of my friends.""Chase Vere is a reptile.”