The Anatomical Shape of a Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

afternoon because I thought the glasses made me look older, but he didn’t need to know that. And he definitely didn’t need to know that my heart double-timed a few beats when he said “sexy.”
    â€œCan I see what you’ve got in your portfolio?” he asked.
    â€œJust pencil sketches.”
    â€œThat’s cool. Can I look at them?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause.”
    â€œBecause … your art isn’t good?”
    â€œIt’s good.”
    â€œProve it,” he said, taking one hand out of his pocket to tap a couple of knuckles against my portfolio as it swung between us. “You know, one artist to another. You’ve seen mine. Show me yours.”
    Oh, the teasing in his voice—and oh , the places I could go with that line. The older, sophisticated Fantasy Me was completely charmed. But the real me was feeling too many pinwheeling emotions wrapped in a center of gooey nervousness. I was also having trouble tearing my gaze away from the scuff marks on the toes of his boots. They weren’t plain-old Doc Martens; they looked fancier, like Fluevogs or something.
    The entrance to the building that housed the anatomy lab was only a few yards away. I checked the time on my phone. Crud. I had to hustle. Why did he have to show up right now? I needed more time to properly freak out about his being there.
    â€œWill you at least tell me your name?” he asked as I pocketed my phone.
    â€œWhy? Afraid I’m going to snitch on you? Is that why you tracked me down?” And why was I being so defensive?
    â€œYou don’t know anything about me and have zero proof, so what’s there to snitch on? It would be smarter for me to avoid you, if you want to get right down to it. Besides, you’re the one who tracked me down first.”
    I stopped in front of the building and faced him. “How so?”
    â€œWilly said the sad girl was asking about me.”
    That little panhandling ratfink. “Look, I was just curious—”
    â€œMe, too. Since that night on the Owl, I’ve been having midnight fantasies about meeting hot girls on buses, and that’s messing up both my routine and my deep loathing of public transportation.”
    Was he really saying this? Ignore! Ignore! “I asked Will about you because I wanted to find out if you were really a criminal,” I argued a little too loudly. A student exiting the building gave us a curious look. “I have to go. I’m running late.”
    I tried to move around him, but he blocked me. “I’m a low-level criminal at best. Barely even a reprobate. And I’ve never been caught, so if a tree falls in the forest, does it really make a sound?”
    â€œDon’t make me laugh. I’ve got an important meeting.”
    He ducked his head to catch my eyes. “If I make you laugh, will you skip it and go have dinner with me?”
    Whoa. Was that a date request? “Look, this is serious. I’m going to be late.”
    He held up his hands in surrender. “Please, just tell me your name. An email address, phone number—something. Come on, Sad Girl. All old Willy could tell me was that you have a sister and that your mom’s a cleaning woman at the hospital.”
    â€œBrother and nurse,” I corrected, stifling a laugh. “He told me you’re a monk and that you have a ‘lady friend’ who works here.”
    Jack laughed and said, “Oh, that Willy.” Then he abruptly went quiet.
    â€œDo you?” I pressed, silently saying the end of the question in my head:… have a girlfriend?
    â€œThough it’s true that I do visit a female person, otherwise known as a ‘lady,’ here, and we are, indeed, friends, she would probably kick me in the balls if I ever called her my ‘lady friend.’ Besides, I’m a monk, apparently.”
    Hmph. Monk, my ass. The only guys at school who were this