After Obsession Read Online Free PDF

Marilyn Monroe.”
    This makes everyone quiet for a second, and then Alan goes, “Marilyn Monroe?”
    “She’s this old, dead movie star, you know. She was all curvy and probably slept with the Kennedys and sang ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend,’ ” Courtney explains. “And that ‘Happy Birthday, Mr. President’ thing, and there’s this poster of her standing over some sewer thing in a city and trying to keep her white skirt from going over her head.”
    “I know who she is. I just don’t understand the Cheeto.” Alan looks at me for help. My heart goes all crazy again.
    “They think the Cheeto looks just like her,” I say. I’ve decided this is not the kind of story that makes a good impression and suddenly I don’t want to tell it at all.
    “Does it?” Courtney asks.
    I sigh. “No. It’s kind of bumpy like her breasts and everything, but I mean, it could be any female form.”
    Courtney snorts water out her nose, which makes me shriek while Courtney pushes her hands to her face, laughing hysterically.
    Blake thrusts napkins into my hand. Alan reaches for some, too. We both start wiping at the table. I dab at Courtney’s nose while he calmly asks, “Did they eat it?”
    “That’s what I’m trying to explain. They did not eat it. Gramps took a picture of it and posted it on eBay.”
    Courtney slams her fist onto the table. “Oh my freaking— DUDE! ”
    “Shut up. Shut up, shut up!” Blake starts laughing so hard he sputters and dribbles. I hand him a soggy napkin.
    “They put it in a Ziploc bag and Gramps is hiding it on top of the fridge so nobody accidentally eats her,” I explain.
    “That’s so wrong,” Blake says.
    “It’s insane.” Courtney rubs her hand where she smacked the table.
    “I know.” I smile at them because for a second it’s like it was before Courtney’s dad died. Blake’s not grumpy. Courtney’s not sad. We’re laughing.
    “Has anyone bid on it?” Hayley asks, leaning over. Her beautiful brown hair swings dangerously close to my cream cheese, so I move my bagel. She blushes. “Sorry. I totally started eavesdropping.”
    “It’s very eavesdroppable stuff,” Courtney agrees as everyone waits for my answer: Courtney, Alan, Blake, Hayley, Hayley’s boyfriend, Eric, and Eric’s and Blake’s best friend, Toby.
    “Someone’s bid five hundred dollars.”
    Everyone squeals and starts imagining a franchise of Cheeto look-alikes. We could do Elvis, or Jesus, or Barack Obama.
    “Britney Spears!” Courtney says. “ I’d pay a hundred dollars for a Cheeto that looks like Britney.”
    It’s all good and happy and we laugh, then break off into two groups again and settle into our lunchtime routine of Courtney reciting sex facts from Cosmo . Blake rubs his foot up and down my leg in a sexified way, which for some reason just makes me feel a little restless and not at all sexified. Alan and Courtney argue about lobsters looking at you while you eat them and I play all peacemaker and then scoot a glance at Alan. He’s the guy from my dream, I know it. And that means he’s in some kind of danger, I think.
    Blake passes me some new lyrics he’s written on notebook paper. He’s totally turned on by this New Hampshire–based hip-hop trio. We all say they’re brilliant, except Alan.
    Court stares really hard at us and then looks at her cousin, who is focusing on the remains of his hamburger. “What do you think, Alan?”
    There’s a massive pause.
    Courtney injects into it, “Our metal-head cowboy action hero here doesn’t like hip-hop or rap or country or lobster or anything in the entire state of Maine.”
    Wow, she’s snarky. It’s like this whole different person, I swear. Something inside me shivers. The bell rings.
    “Saved by the bell.” Blake laughs, but it’s really obvious that he’s faking it. He’s hurt or something. Poor sweet Blake requires a lot of praise. He leans over, kisses my cheek, and is off to class with Courtney.
    Alan and I