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

I found Tommy waiting by the door.
    “Hey,” I squeaked, looking at the ground.
    “Oh, hi.”
    Pause. Silence. Neither of us moved.
    “Listen, Lindsay?”
    “Yes?”
    “I’m—I’m sorry about what happened.”
    “No biggie,” I said quickly.
    “It’s just—”
    I had to stop him from continuing. It suddenly occurred to
me that he could actually like me. And once he put that out there, well, there
was no going back. “It was the bubbly, right?” I added in a rush.
    “Oh . . . yeah. The champagne.”
    “Goes straight to the head. Don’t worry,” I reassured him.
“I won’t say anything to Becca.”
    He looked out the window. “Sure.”
    “We friends?”
    “Of course. Friends.” He turned back to me and smiled.
    Then we both stood there. And then he took a step toward me…
    Oh, no not again, is what I thought. So I jumped back.
“Tommy, we talked about this.”
    He looked confused for a second, and then he laughed. “I was
just going to the bathroom.”
    Right.
    So now I’m the girl who thinks my best friend’s brother is
constantly trying to jump her. Awesome.
    Harold and Becca are awake and giggling—Harold must have
climbed into Becca’s bed during the night, because they’re all curled up
together like two puppies.
    Joanna is still sleeping. Which is why I take great pleasure
in opening the blinds.
    Hah!
    The view of the sun rising over the mountains is quite
spectacular. I would take a photo if I could find my camera. Maybe today will
be a good day. We’re going white-water rafting. I have never been white-water
rafting. That is not something my mother would ever agree to let me do. In
fact, she explicitly told me after seeing it on the itinerary that I had to sit
it out.
    Tough.
    I am going to do it. I am not a child. I can be careful.
    It is pretty cool that I’m white water rafting in the French
Alps. What did you do today? Oh I went white water rafting in the French Alps.
You?
    Beats going to the mall.
    Still Monday, 5:00 P.M.
    So, I’m in the hospital.
    Nice, huh?
    Don’t worry, it’s nothing major.
    Really.
    Let me start at the beginning.
    When we arrived, we checked into our chalet, which was much
nicer than the hostel in Paris. We’re four per room, each room holding just two
bunk beds. Somehow Becca and I got stuck with the Pennies. The good news is
that each room has its own small bathroom. I mean, really small. The shower
is—I’m not kidding—on top of the toilet. I made Becca take a picture.
    Anyway, we put our stuff away, ate croissants and cheese
(the amount of cheese in this country is out of control. I’ve only been here a
few days and I’ve already ingested more than my body weight. If I’m not careful
I’m going to develop a lactose intolerance), put on our bathing suits, and got
picked up by the white-water rafting shuttle busses.
    Before we were placed onto said rapids, we divided ourselves
into small groups. Ours was Harold, the Pennies, Becca, Tommy, Pierre (!!!),
the rafting guide, and me. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but Pierre and Abby
were clearly having some sort of lovers’ quarrel because Abby kept glaring our
way. Anyway, we were all fitted with red helmets and yellow life jackets and
handed paddles. I tightened my equipment, scooted over to the edge, made my
knuckles turn white from gripping my paddle – and practically had a heart
attack when a glistening Pierre took the spot beside me.
    The little hairs on his calves were fully touching my
(hairless) legs. “Ready?” he asked.
    Terrified.
    I took a deep breath of the fresh mountain hair and tried to
calm myself. Then I tried to imprint the stunning scenery in my brain. How
could anything bad happen here? The mountains were lush and green and in the
distance capped with white. Besides, if rafting was actually dangerous, they
wouldn’t let unsuspecting tourists do it, would they? Especially Americans.
Hello. We sue.
    Finally we began rafting. Basically you paddle down the
river until