“That's the thing about Willing: There's always someone happy to let you know exactly what your place is.”

“There's a moment everyone knows, when you look down at your fresh white shirt and realize you've spilled Coke or egg yolk or spaghetti sauce down the front. There's that flash of denial, followed by the realization that the shirt is probably ruined; it'll certainly never be the same. Then, for some people, it's "Well, that's life.Move on."I still haven't reached that point with the scar.”

“She had a point,you know," Edward commented a few hours later. "Unnecessarily crude, perhaps, but apt. Our public personas frequently do not match our private ones. You, of all people, should know that.""This isn't about me," I said grumpily. "This is about needing to find more information about the private you.Something I don't already know.""I have terribly ugly feet.""Not what I had in mind.And probably untrue anyway."Edward glanced down at the empty space below his rib cage. "Probably. So, what did you have in mind?""A letter,maybe.From Diana.Something that connected your love to your work.""I rather thought I did that through my paintings.""You did.I mean, that's what attracted me to you in the first place.Well, o, that was your smile, probably,but the paintings helped. It's just that I need to know more about your muse.""Ah, darling Ella, the artist's muse is Ego.Nothing more.""You don't mean that.You married Diana because she made you feel like no one else in the universe ever did or could."He nodded. "She was extraordinary.""But not everyone saw that.Your family went nuts.Half of your friends stopped inviting you over, at least for a while.""Their loss. She was a woman who comes along once in a lifetime.”

“I hadn't wanted to explain the lipstick. Or the mascara. Or the skinny jeans I'd snagged from Sienna's laundrey and washed under cover of darkness and paired with a black turtleneck that a jaunt through the dryer had made, to ne honest, a size too small. But this news about the Willing Archive trumped all of that.He gave me a careful once-over. "Well."I sat down next to him, aiming for casual. I should have aimed my butt. I sat on his geometry book. "Well what?""Don't even.The day you become a good liar is the day I leave you for one of the Hannandas.""I have an appointment at the Willing Archive."I will say this for Frankie: He pays attention. "The utterly-off-limits, place-to-bury-your-face-in-Edward's-old-knickers archive?""Nice.But yes,that one.Mrs. Evers got me in.""About time someone did." He bumped a shoulder against mine. "I really do hate to burst your bubble, Fiorella, but Edward is a century past appreciating the sight of you in tight jeans. So tell me whassup."I squirmed a little."What sort of idiot do you think I am?" He sighed. "You look good, but I am concerned about the inspiration.""It's not a big deal. It's some makeup.""When I want a boy to look ta me, it's a day that ends in y. You, it's something else. It's a big deal.”

“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.”

“What do you know about 1969, anyway? It was after your time.""I know everything." He gave me that sleepy-eyed smile of his. "Love or money, I'm afraid.""Great," I sighed, unable not to think about Alex and trips to Europe and the Hannandas with their Prada bags. "The two things that show absolutely no hint of ever coming my way. Shoot me now.""I can't, darling girl. No arms. Besides, even if I had the ability, I would never do such a thing. It would be dastardly.And...""And?""Ah,Ella.Fond of you as I am, there is no passion in my feelings.""Love or money," I droned."Love or money," Edward agreed.”

“Okay.First things first. Three things you don't want me to know about you.""What?" I gaped at him."You're the one who says we don't know each other.So let's cut to the chase."Oh,but this was too easy:1. I am wearing my oldest, ugliest underwear.2.I think your girlfriend is evil and should be destroyed.3.I am a lying, larcenous creature who talks to dead people and thinks she should be your girlfriend once the aforementioned one is out of the picture.I figured that was just about everything. "I don't think so-""Doesn't have to be embarrassing or major," Alex interrupted me, "but it has to be something that costs a little to share." When I opened my mouth to object again, he pointed a long finger at the center of my chest. "You opened the box,Pandora.So sit."There was a funny-shaped velour chair near my knees. I sat. The chair promptly molded itself to my butt. I assumed that meant it was expensive, and not dangerous. Alex flopped onto the bed,settling on his side with his elbow bent and his head propped on his hand."Can't you go first?" I asked."You opened the box...""Okay,okay. I'm thinking."He gave me about thirty seconds. Then, "Time."I took a breath. "I'm on full scholarship to Willing." One thing Truth or Dare has taught me is that you can't be too proud and still expect to get anything valuable out of the process."Next.""I'm terrified of a lot things, including lightning, driving a stick shift, and swimming in the ocean."His expression didn't change at all. He just took in my answers. "Last one.""I am not telling you about my underwear," I muttered.He laughed. "I am sorry to hear that. Not even the color?"I wanted to scowl. I couldn't. "No.But I will tell you that I like anchovies on my pizza.""That's supposed to be consolation for withholding lingeries info?""Not my concern.But you tell me-is it something you would broadcast around the lunchroom?""Probably not," he agreed."Didn't think so." I settled back more deeply into my chair. It didn't escape my notice that, yet again, I was feeling very relaxed around this boy. Yet again, it didn't make me especially happy. "Your turn."I thought about my promise to Frankie. I quietly hoped Alex would tell me something to make me like him even a little less. He was ready. "I cried so much during my first time at camp that my parents had to come get me four days early."I never went to camp. It always seemed a little bit idyllic to me. "How old were you?""Six.Why?""Why?" I imagined a very small Alex in a Spider-Man shirt, cuddling the threadbare bunny now sitting on the shelf over his computer. I sighed. "Oh,no reason. Next.""I hated Titanic, The Notebook, and Twilight.""What did you think of Ten Things I Hate About You?""Hey," he snapped. "I didn't ask questions during your turn.""No,you didn't," I agreed pleasantly. "Anser,please.""Fine.I liked Ten Things. Satisfied?"No,actually. "Alex," I said sadly, "either you are mind-bogglingly clueless about what I wouldn't want to know, or your next revelation is going to be that you have an unpleasant reaction to kryptonite."He was looking at me like I'd spoken Swahili. "What are you talking about?"Just call me Lois. I shook my head. "Never mind. Carry on.""I have been known to dance in front of the mirror-" he cringed a little- "to 'Thriller.'"And there it was. Alex now knew that I was a penniless coward with a penchant for stinky fish.I knew he was officially adorable.He pushed himself up off his elbow and swung his legs around until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "And on that humiliating note, I will now make you translate bathroom words into French." He picked up a sheaf of papers from the floor. "I have these worksheets. They're great for the irregular verbs...”