Rhythm Read Online Free PDF

about the physical thing, but once again, he
surprised me. Although he didn’t outright agree, which I
understood, I appreciate his effort and the respect he has for me.
If anything, I love him more for it.
    We will celebrate our 1st weeksary —as
per Grant—and he told me to dress casual. I don’t know why he even
told me that because my entire wardrobes are all casual, and I mean
all.
    I wear a pinstriped loose blouse, black
leggings, and a nude ballet flats. I put on a light pink lipstick
for a natural look and curl my lashes because that is all the
makeup I own. I pinch my cheeks to give myself a natural blush, and
there you have it—my casual look that is, by the way, my everyday
look. The only difference is that I opt out my eyeglasses in
exchange for a clear contact lens.
    Just as I am finishing up, I hear the secret
knock on our door—three knocks, pause, one knock, pause, two
knocks, and silence. He’s here.
    Since we don’t have cell phones, we kind of
make codes or cryptic messages that only we can understand, and
secret messages so that we can communicate our plans. Like for this
date, he left a note on my locker saying:
    Continents. Casual.
Concede.
    Which translates to: He’ll pick me up at 7 pm
(7 continents), I should wear casual clothes, and the note is from
Grant (synonym of grant - concede).
    I don’t know how or when this kind of
communication started, but I kind of like it. No one who sees the
note will understand it but me. Although when we are together, we
communicate openly, not using codes, not cryptically, nor
secretly.
    I open the door with a smile and there he is,
my love, wearing a navy blue V-neck shirt, faded jeans, and a black
sneakers.
    “Why, hello there, my lady,” he greets me
with a bow reserved for a queen.
    “Hi, Grant.” I beam at him showing my newly
brushed and flossed teeth.
    “Someone’s in a good mood today it seems.
How’s your day?”
    He catches my extraordinary mood. I rarely
beam. Frankly speaking, this is my first time. I smile but not
beam, especially not at him.
    I try to shift my mood a little bit but fail.
“My day’s just keeps getting better, thank you. How about you?”
    “Excited much to see me, aren’t you?” He
laughs. “My day’s always at its best when I’m with you,
sunshine.”
    I think of the reason why I am exceptionally
excited today. Oh, yes. It’s our 1st weeksary, which Lola found
dumb. Did I mention that Grant also initiated the celebration of
our daysary ? Sweet, isn’t he?
    “Happy 1st week, baby,” he greets me and
hands me daisies.
    “Wow, thank you, Grant. They’re lovely.”
    “Not as lovely as you, my daisy.” His
compliments didn’t change. In fact, it becomes more abundant each
day. “Ready?”
    “I am. Let’s go.” I put the lovely daisies on
a vase, then close and lock the door.
    “Where are we headed?”
    Leading me to his pick-up truck, he says,
“Surprise,” then winks at me.
    My only clue for this particular surprise of
Grant is the food he asked me to prepare. I guess we’re having a
picnic or something.
    “Will you ever have enough of them?
Surprises, I mean. You surprise me almost every day.”
    “Nope, I won’t. I will do everything to
surprise you.”
    And I’m surprised that his response doesn’t
surprise me. He’s always like that—attentive, caring, loving . . .
Is he even a man? I think of all the men I know of, and none of
them can be compared to him. I don’t mean to generalize men—no, not
at all. It’s just that all male species I know always make sure to
destroy—relationship, trust, and heart. I hope and pray that Grant
will be different than them all the way, which so far, he is.
    “Well, thank you again, Grant—for
everything.”
    “Will you ever have enough of them? Thank
you , I mean. You thank me almost every day,” he teases me.
    “That’s because you always do or say
something with and for me that I do appreciate. I want to always
let you know how grateful I am