Shrimp Read Online Free PDF Page B

to eye with Alexei, which had to be some sort of irritation to him because he likes little girly-girls, all petite and giggly and lip-glossed, who can't look him in his icy eyes like an equal. I knew I was supposed to be serious and busted and all that, but my insides were buzzed nice and my face couldn't help but break into a smile at Alexei. And for the first time possibly in the ten years in which it's been my unfortunate circumstance to be acquainted with him, Alexei smiled back at me. The smile was a strain on his Slavic face of red cheeks and high cheekbones and bushy eyebrows--really, he shouldn't smile, ever. 'Alright, Cyd Charisse," he said. "I'll give you this one. But you owe me. Big time."
    I said my good-bye to Helen and left with Alexei the Horrible. The price of the ride was this: lecture. What if a cop had been in the bar and asked to see ID? What was I thinking? Did I honestly expect that all the guys just wanted to buy beer for me, that they had nothing else on their minds? How could I be so naive? High school girls, even wild ones like me, should not be hanging out in places like that.
    Oh, old man much? I had a nice little nod off going while Alexei told me about how he was taking a semester
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    off from Fancy University and would be spending the time back home in San Fran working on some project that would look great on his resume. Snore.
    Alexei the Horrible handed me one of those disgusting Listerine breath strips before we walked into my house. "You smell like Guinness and Marlboros," Alexei said. "Just go along with what I say."
    My parents were in the study leading off from the main hall as we walked by. When he saw us standing at the study entrance Sid-dad said, 'Alexei! What a surprise!"
    Alexei said, "Look what I found at the bookstore on Clement Street. Very noble of her to want to take the bus, but I was on my way over to see Fernando, anyway."
    Nancy looked up from the pile of invitations on her lap. She sniffed. "Who smells like smoke? And"--my mother scrunched her perfect little nose up--"do I smell beer?"
    I was a little woozy but Alexei propped my back with his hand just as my legs were feeling like they needed a rest from this standing business. Alexei said, "Me. I was at the pub watching Monday Night Football with some buddies when I saw Cyd Charisse through the window, walking out from the bookstore across the street. Cyd was commenting on the smell the whole car ride over too. No, Cyd, I won't be mad if you hit the shower now instead of come help me unload boxes at Fernando's."
    My parents really have blinders on when it comes to Alexei the Horrible, because football season hadn't even started yet and no way would Alexei care about watching a pre-season NFL game being played in, like, Japan. Sid-dad said, "Thank you, Alexei. Can you stay a while, talk about your semester off?" I hiccupped, and Alexei's hand in my
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    back shoved me toward the stairs. I sprinted up to my room before Nancy could invite me into the study to look at fabric swatches or something.
    When I reached my room I shut the door behind me and stood against it, breathing heavily, primed for a major shower and mouth wash.
    That was close. And now I owed Alexei the Horrible. Fuck.
    A postcard was propped up on my bed pillow. It was a tourist postcard from Fiji, picturing a beautiful dark lady with black hair down to her waist, wearing a grass skirt and bikini top, doing one of those luau-whatever dances at a campfire on white sand with an azure tropical ocean and magenta sunset in the background. A colored pencil drawing was taped on next to her, picturing a short white surfer guy with dirty blond hair and a platinum blond spiked patch at the front. He was standing next to the dancing lady, playing the bagpipes.
    Sigh. Bagpipes always make me feel weepy and sexy at the same time, and the one person who knows that about me had written on the other side of the postcard, Miss me? The card was signed with a pencil drawing