A Nice Fling is Hard to Find Read Online Free PDF

countryside. Except I am too cranky to be lazy, and it’s too dark out to
see the fields of sunflowers or whatever.
    After the early wake-up, we went to Notre Dame. I think I
would have appreciated the gargoyles and towers more if I’d been in a better
mood. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even hide behind a camera, since I still can’t
find mine. Of course Tommy was snapping away, looking all professional about
it.
    Tommy who I still haven’t spoken to or looked at.
    Anyway, it took us at least an hour to get up Notre Dame,
but from the top you could see 360 degrees around Paris. But then we had to
climb down, and I almost passed out on the stairs, because they were the swirly
kind and I felt a moment of panic that I would slip, fall and have to be put in
a body cast. Becca kept saying don’t look down, but how can you not? I got
nauseous, and had to sit down for a few minutes, which the people behind me in
line did not appreciate.
    I’m not sure exactly how I got down – all I remember is that
Becca was holding my hand.
    Then we went back to the hostel and packed up and checked
out.
    Of course I kept an eye out for Vlad, but did I see him? No.
Potential fling number two slipped right through my fingers. Good thing
potential fling number one is stuck with us. Good-bye, Vlad, good-bye. Love
always, Линдсй.
    “We’ll always have Paris,” Becca said as we strapped on our
gigantic backpacks. The trick is to sit down on the floor, put your arms in and
then hoist yourself into a standing position.
    At the train station, Joanna purchased us all overnight
tickets to the French Alps. Each car on the train has two bunk beds and fits
four. Since Joanna said we could pick our own rooms, it should have been
Harold, Becca, me, and Tommy. But, when it came time to get into our cars,
Tommy was conspicuously absent. It was so obvious. To me anyway. Fortunately,
Tommy hadn’t said anything to Becca and Harold about what happened, so they
didn’t understand where he was.
    “What if he’s not on the train?” Becca asked, concerned.
    “I’m sure he’s here somewhere,” I muttered.
    “I don’t think so. I’m going to look for him,” she said.
    So then it was Harold and me in the car.
    “Hey.”
    “Howdy.”
    Oh, the conversation was wild.
    I could hear Becca stomping about, checking the other cars
with a, “Excusez-moi, excusez-moi.” Until I heard, “Oh. There you are.
Why didn’t you sit with us? I thought we’d left you in Paris. ”
    “Oh, hey. I’m going to stay here.” Tommy’s voice was low and
rumbly.
    “Why?”
    I couldn’t hear the answer, but then Becca returned to our
cabin and closed the door. She climbed into the bottom bed next to Harold.
“That was weird.”
    La, la la.
    She draped her legs across Harold’s thighs. “I’m going to
have a long talk with him. He better not be making moves on one of the Pennies.
They are so lame.”
    And then to make the night even more excruciating, that’s
when our door slid open. “Excellent,” Joanna said. “You have an extra bed. I’m
going to join you.”
    I wasn’t the only one unhappy about this development. Harold
had to move to the top bunk above Becca since sharing a car was one thing, but
sharing a bed was another.
    Then a half a second later, Pierre popped his sexy head into
the car, looked around and said, “Oh zis room is full. Tant pis. ”
    Javelin through the heart. He separated from Abby for the
first time all week and my car is full.
    Finally the train took off . . . and here’s my question: how
am I supposed to sleep on a moving bed?
    Monday, July 16 th , 6:45 A.M.
    I just ran into Tommy outside the bathroom.
    After tossing and turning, and repeatedly banging the back
of my head against the train wall, I finally fell asleep. Or was knocked
unconscious. Whatever. But then I woke up, finding that I had somehow rolled
off my bed onto the floor. Good thing I had a bottom bunk. I decided to try and
locate the bathroom.
    When I came out,