Harvard Hottie Read Online Free PDF

extra quiet as I head down the hallway to get to my apartment. My eightysomething neighbor Sadie Katz has taken an extra-special interest in my social life since I moved here. No matter how quiet I am, even if I duck my head down as I walk past her peephole, she always notices when I come home. There must be some invisible tripwire near her door.
    Sure enough, the second I pass Sadie’s door, I hear her three locks popping open. I consider making a break for it, but that would be rude. Besides, she’s sweet, if a little annoying.
    “Ellie!” she cries out when she sees me, her tiny wrinkled face breaking out in a smile. Her hair is a big white puff surrounding her head.
    “Hi, Sadie,” I say, fumbling in my pocket for my keys.
    “Any exciting plans for tonight?” Sadie asks.
    “Just dinner,” I say, shrugging.
    “Dinner with a suitor?” she asks excitedly, clasping her hands together.
    Sadie always calls men “suitors” even though I’m pretty sure nobody has referred to dates that way in the last fifty years. She thinks I should have a minimum of six suitors, so I could have a date every night of the week (and one night to wash my hair).
    “No, just dinner by myself,” I tell Sadie.
    Her face falls. While it’s sweet that Sadie wants me to have a boyfriend (or suitor, whatever), it’s also very irritating. I’m the youngest of three girls, and my parents already have seven grandchildren, so they are relatively unconcerned with my decision to remain single for the duration. It’s a great situation, which I totally blew by moving next door to Sadie.
    “I just can’t understand it, Ellie,” Sadie says. “You have such a pretty face. The boys should be banging down your door!” She examines me critically. “It must be your hips.”
    “My hips?”
    Sadie nods. “They’re too skinny. You don’t have birthing hips. It probably makes men think you won’t be able to have many children.”
    I am almost positive that is not the reason I don’t get many dates. But she’s right that I could afford to put on a few pounds—I always thought that in my twenties, I’d get a more curvaceous body, but somehow I’m still all bony. I always wear belts because my butt and my hips aren’t substantial enough to hold up my pants.
    “You need to eat more,” Sadie decides. She holds up a finger. “One minute!”
    She dashes back into her apartment, and I’m sorely attempted to disappear inside mine, even though I realize that would be really rude. When she returns a minute later, she’s holding a huge Tupperware bowl filled with…
    “Pot roast!” Sadie declares, thrusting it into my arms. “You eat this, Ellie dear. And you’ll have all the beaus you can handle.”
    I stumble into my apartment with my tub of pot roast. I’m not going to be eating this. It looks like it’ll sit like a rock in my stomach, and anyway, I grabbed a burrito that I ate during the T ride home.
    Before I go to veg out in front of the television, I find myself moving in the direction of the bathroom in search of a mirror. I feel this almost desperate need to compare myself to my college self, the girl that Luke had known all those years ago. I need to see how I measure up.
    I may have been young and nubile in college, but I was so awkward back then that I probably look better now. Objectively, at least. I get my hair professionally straightened and highlighted, wear contacts instead of glasses, and I no longer buy the majority of my clothes at Walmart (I’ve upgraded to Target). I’m slender, if a little bit bony, and I don’t have any unsightly wrinkles. I’m somewhat attractive now.
    But inside, I’m still the same girl I was when I was eighteen. I’m still a huge nerd. I still get nervous when I have to meet new people. I still prefer staying home to going out and socializing.
    Sadie isn’t the only one around who wonders why I’m still single. I wonder, too. I’ve had a few boyfriends over the years, but I’ve