“It's pierogis. From Svichkar's. Probably cold. It seemed...Oh,crap. It was a really stupid thing to bring, wasn't it? My mother just has this thing about never arriving empty-handed."I tugged the bag out of his hands. "It's perfect. Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Bainbridge.""Je t'en prie, Mademoiselle Marino."Okay, so it's just the semiformal way to say "You're welcome" in French, but anyone who says Italian is the language of romance is probably Italian.”

“Just out of curiosity, do they know I'm here?""Yep." My Mother did, anyway. Mention of a French tutor had effectively headed off any possibility of shopping."I take it they trust you not to do anything inappropriate."I couldn't tell if he was being serious. I assumed not. "Absolutely. In fact,my mother would probably pay you to do something to make them trust me a little less." I took a look at his face. He looked a little stunned. "Oh,no. I didn't mean-"Or maybe I did. But Alex was backing away from me, hands raised. "okay.""J'etais stupide."He sat down heavily on the edge of my desk, narrowly missing the biscotti. "I wouldn't say that. But your use of the imperfect is improving.""Just what I always wanted," I said sadly, "to get better at imperfection.”

“In spite of the cold I took a seat at one of the sidewalk tables. It felt like a slab of ice under my butt. I shivered,but stuck it out."Hey, Loco Girl!"Shout out "Hey, Gorgeous!" or "Einstein," and I don't budge. But this one had me at "Loco." Go figure. I looked across the sidewalk to see Daniel's face, so much like Frankie's, framed in the window of his Jeep. I felt a sad little tug in my chest."You are aware it's only forty degrees out there,aren't you?" he asked. I shrugged. "Meeting someone?""No," I admitted."Then get in.Your hands look like wax. It's seriously creepy."I looked down at the hand gripping the blindingly cheerful cup.He was right.He also got out to open the passenger's-side door for me. I was a little charmed, until he pointed at my partially eaten cheesesteak in its wilted paper wrapper. "You are not bringing that thing into my car. It's an abomination."I eyed the cigarette he'd dropped in the gutter. He did his teeth-baring thing. I tossed my cold meal in the trash, knowing I wouldn't have eaten it anyway. The inside of the Jeep wasn't all that much warmer than out. "Here." Daniel took off his black leather jacket and held it out for me. It was heavy and smelled a little bit like a burned cookie. It went on over my own coat; the sleeves went past my fingertips. "You look like frozen-""Don't say it," I muttered as I settled into the battered seat."You have no idea what I was going to say," he shot back, grinning. "Something rotten in the state of Marino?""And you ask that because...?""Really? It's four in the afternoon, and instead of being with Sadie and my brother or at home, eating something colorful, you're sitting outside by yourself here.Not exactly rocket science.”

“So,I'm curious." Alex dragged me from my pleasant contemplation of cowardice and back in the bathroom. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his feet almost touching mine. "What is it you like so much about this guy? I looked up his stuff. It's good, but nothing out of the ordinary."What a difference a week and a shock to the ideals makes. I felt my defense of Edward sticking a little in my troat. "I like his portraits. He really saw people.It was his great strength, that intensity."Alex tilted his chin toward the picture. "Not to seem crude, but she could be any girl with a nice ass." When I glared at him, he uncrossed his arms quickly and held up his hands in surrender. "Hey,all I mean is that if I were all about really seeing someone, that's not the angle I would choose."He was probably right. No matter how I looked at it, he was probably right. "You're probably right," I told him.He bowed. The small space suddenly got a lot smaller. "Stick with me, Grasshopper. I will never lead you wrong.”

“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.”

“I should probably leave now," I said, starting to strip off the gloves. I wasn't about to walk away with my droopy scarecrow hands.”

“Maybe if he hadn't paused to take an audible breath, we wouldn't have heard it. But as it was, the creak from the floor outside my half-open door came in loud and clear. Alex shot up like he'd been poked with a sharp stick. I crossed the room in a single breath and jerked open the door.Nonna, halwayf past my room and clearly heading for the stairs, looked like something out of a cartoon. Her shoulders were hunched, she had one foot lifted off the floor, and she was cringing. "Oh,Fiorella. I am sorry!"In an alernate universe, another Ella was frantically reassuring her shrieking grandmother that nothing had happened, she had not endangered her immortal soul, and it would be a very good thing, please, if Poppa's revolver went back into its dusty case.In this one,Nonna had a gun forefinger to her own temple. She popped her thumb and rolled her eyes. Not knowing what else to do, I stepped aside. "Um...Nonna, this is Alex Bainbridge. Alex, this is my grandmother..."He was already across the room, hand extended. "Buongiorno, Signora Marino. Piacere di conosceria."She responded with a delighted cackle and a torrent of Italian. I caught "welcome" and "sausage." Of course, I might have been wrong about both. Alex listened attentively, then gave her a crooked smile. "Scusi, signora. I don't speak Italian. Well, much,anyway. I just practiced a couple phrases for...um...practice.""Ah"-Nonna reached up to pinch Alex's cheek, not to hard-"it doesn't matter. You have me at buongiorno. Now, come,come.”