Infatuate Read Online Free PDF

the mall. He was now wearing the satin violet tie from that shopping trip.
    “Please, being your stylist is the best distraction from, like, real life, you know?” he said lightly, but with a twinge that showed there was some dread beneath the surface. He fluffed my hair, as the door to his room opened.
    “Hey,” Lance said. He fished for something in his pocket. Like Dante, he wore a dark suit, but his tie was a muted gray.
    “Well, I picked out the shoes on my own. A little credit please? I’m wearing heels at least.” I gestured to my metallic sandals.
    “I had to convince you to go silver. Partial credit,” Dante joked.
    “I thought you seemed taller. Two and a quarter inches?” Lance calculated, as was his way. Then he stepped in, pulling me by the arm just enough so his lips were level with my eyes. He tilted up his chin so it rested on the top of my head. “Yeah, usually it’s easier to do this.” I playfully swatted him away.
    “It’s just a matter of time before I’m kicked out of my room by you lovebirds, I know it.” Dante sighed. “Ugh. See, birds are trouble. I’m beginning to understand why Hitchcock made a horror movie about them.”
    “Dan!” I rolled my eyes. Lance didn’t seem to be listening. He had already dug out his new monogrammed phone, testing it once more, with a furrowed brow that said it still wasn’t working.
    There were voices up ahead. I could sense a wave of anxiety pass through the three of us, our posture collectively stiffening.
    “Still no sign of the roommate?” Dante asked. Lance had popped out the battery in the back of the phone and some other piece and held them up to his eye. He saw me looking and just shook his head, slipping the components back into the pocket of his slightly wrinkled suit jacket.
    “Nope, not yet,” I replied. “Is it weird that I’m nervous to meet her?” Sabine hadn’t come back all day and I felt slight pangs of guilt now that I hadn’t called her to at least say hello and thank her for the invitation to roam the city—her note had been so welcoming. But, really, the day had flown by, consumed by all the usual mundanities of christening a new place home, followed by a lengthy primping session with Dante.
    “Honestly, nothing’s weird anymore,” Lance offered. He had a point.
    “Loosen up, Hav!” Dante kneaded my shoulders and slapped me on the back, just as we reached the living room.
    Our fellow housemates were already gathered. The basketball players from earlier chatted easily—I assumed they had come from the same school, like we had. Others—like that redhead, who now wore a jade halter-top dress—sat perched with stiff backs on the sleek furniture, looking like they hoped to blend in with the décor. They glanced side to side, debating, it seemed, whether to strike up a conversation or wait for someone else to make the first move. The three of us took our places standing along the periphery, against the wall with the TV. Before we could get too social, we were startled by a few loud claps from the side hallway.
    “Hey, team!” Connor called, standing in the center of the room. He was dressed in a suit and tie, but he held his jacket and his rolled-up shirt sleeves exposed his tan forearms. “The other folks’ll have to meet us there. Let’s roll out!”
     
    The St. Charles streetcar rattled along the center of the tree-lined avenue. Here and there, a few strands of shiny beads, no doubt remnants of last year’s Mardi Gras, still hung entwined in the branches of the trees above. They reminded me of my phone call with Joan earlier, when I confirmed we had arrived safely in New Orleans. “Promise you won’t do anything nutty just to get someone to throw those plastic beads at you?” she said. I laughed and assured her I hadn’t gotten too wild yet.
    Dante slid into me on the wooden bench seat, angling to get a better view of the mansions dotting the way. No two were alike, each with special touches like