A Nice Fling is Hard to Find Read Online Free PDF Page A

all his talk about why I
wouldn’t give someone on the trip a chance. But I thought he was being more . .
. theoretical. I mean, he, Becca, and I talk about this kind of stuff all the
time. You know, fears and psychology and philosophy and life.
    Anyway, Becca pushed passed me and helped her brother to his
feet. “What happened?” she screamed. “Did someone hit you?” She glared at the
crowd, ready to beat-up whoever had hurt him.
    If only I could have disappeared into the crowd.
    “I fell,” he said, limping toward a sidewalk, and rubbing
the back of his head.
    And what was I supposed to say? What was I supposed to do?
Why would Tommy try to kiss me? He’s never showed any type of interest in me.
Why tonight? Did he think I came on to him? Did he think I wanted him to be my
fling?
    I can’t hook up with Tommy!
    Yes, he’s cute and a nice guy. But it cannot happen. For
many, many reasons.
    1.   I am not attracted to him! At least, I don’t think I am.
    2.   He’s my best friend’s brother. My best friend’s TWIN brother.
You can’t hook up with your best friend’s twin brother for many, obvious
reasons. One being, your best friend will never speak to you again once you and
said twin break up. That’s what people in their teens do—they break up. It’s
not likely that two sixteen-year-olds year olds will get married. I’m not
saying it’s impossible, but a smart gambler would wager that it’s highly
unlikely. So, either I break up with him, or he breaks up with me. If I break
up with him, Becca hates me for hurting her brother. If he breaks up with me,
then I hate him for breaking up with me, and then I spend the next ten years
avoiding him, and then what do I do when Becca wants me to be the maid of honor
at her wedding?
    Or what if us hooking up doesn’t even lead to a
relationship? What if it’s the sloppiest, most disgusting, kiss in the history
of kissing? What if he bites my tongue by mistake and gives me a lisp? It would
always be awkward between us. I would never be able to hang out at their place
watching TV or making English muffin pizzas in the microwave.
    3.   Tommy is not foreign. My fling is supposed to be someone I will
never see again. Not someone from my own city, from my own high school, or
especially someone I have known since nursery school.
    After the encounter, I could not, would not, look at Tommy.
And he could not, would not, look at me.
    I could barely summon the appropriate concentration to flirt
with Vlad. Or Pierre. In fact, I totally lost Vlad in the crowd and didn’t even
get a chance to say good night to him after the parade. Who knows if I’ll ever
see him again? Sure, he’s staying in the hostel, but I don’t want to be a fling
stalker.
    Tommy has ruined everything. What had he been thinking? Was
he drunk? Suffering from heatstroke? Perhaps my guava is even more powerful
than I’ve ever realized?
    And the worst part is that I can’t complain to Becca. Hey,
your brother hit on me, our friendship is awkward from this morning forward,
and happy Bastille Day to you.
    Everyone is fast asleep. Well, not everyone. Penny with a Y
is missing. Her sleeping bag is still zipped tight. Where is she?
    Is she hooking up with my Vlad?
    She so is.
    Who does she think she is hooking up with some random guy?
Slut.
    Now I’m in an even worse mood. Maybe I’ll go to sleep and
wake up back in Long Island.
    Still Sunday, still in France, 7:00 A.M
    No luck. I’m still here.
    Joanna just woke me up with “Les Poissons, Les Poissons, hee
hee hee hon hon hon.” Oh yes, she broke out The Little Mermaid.
    TJ, would you mind very much if I used you to hit Joanna
over the head?
    10:00 P.M.
    We’re on the train headed toward the Alps. I wish I was
under the train.
    It’s not the train per se that’s bad. I don’t mind the
train. I actually like the train, usually. You can sit and do nothing but
lazily watch the scenery roll by the window. In this case, scenery of the green
French