“What is it you want, Ella?""What you had," I answered softly, "with Diana. That once-in-a-lifetime connection that makes everything good.""Fine.But you do realize that in orde to be loved like that, you have to let the lucky gentleman see you.I mean truly see you, scars and all.""Yes,Edward, I am fully aware of that.""But you don't want anyone to really look at you."He had me there. "Well,no.""Good luck with that,then," he said, then yawned and cosed his eyes, telling me the conversation was over.”

“I'll tell you this,though, Frankie makes me happy. So does Sadie. I don't want to canoodle with either of them, but I love them to death.""Must you use those words in my presence?""Sorry.But.Truth:You are dead as the spat."Edward sighed. "You're right.You're absolutely right. So I suppose you'd best go to sleep, darling Ella. It's late. And,as was famously said, 'tomorrow-'""-is another day? Thank you, Scarlett O'Hara.""Actually-" -he scowled at me- "I was going to say, 'Tomorrow comes. Tomorrow brings, tomorrow brings love, in the shape of things.'""Shakespeare?" I asked."Queen," he shot back. "Not nearly as good as 'Bohemian Rhapsody' or 'Fat Bottomed Girls,' but certainly poetic.""Good night, Edward.""Good night, lovely girl."I turned off the light and climbed into bed. "Oh.By the way.""Yes?""I think I figured out why you called Diana all those nicknames. 'Spring,' 'Cab,' 'Post'...""Yes?""They're all things you wait for. I think Diana was making you wait, and it was making you crazy. Am I right?""Oh,Ella. You know I can't tell you that. I will,however, leave you with one more lovely old chestnut-""'All good things are worth waiting for?'""I really wish you would let me finish a thought tonight. I was going to say, 'Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby.'""Marvin Gaye," I said."The one and only.”

“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.”

“Do you have any friends who aren't Phillites?"He scowled at me. "I hate that word. I really hate it.""Why?" I asked, genuinely confused. I gestured around the room, with its leather furniture and slick electronics. "It fits.""So do Speedos, but I don't want to wear those, either." He stared at me through narrowed eyes. "Let's try this: You tell me something you actually like about me."I snuggled into his lap. "I like everything about you.""Except my friends and socioeconomic status."I looked up at him. "Are you mad?""No,Ella,I'm not mad."I wasn't entirely sure I believed him. He looked a little grim. I felt a tug of worry. "I like your mouth," I whispered, tracing his lips with my fingertip, coaxing them up at the corner. "Among many,many other things."The mouth was a good start. I especially liked what he did with it.So much that I didn't realize what his hands were doing until I felt cool air.”

“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.”

“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.”