The Crocodile Read Online Free PDF

in a minute, except for the fact that he’s best friends with Christian. He’s asked me for your number twice already, and I figure I’m going to go ahead and give it to him, just to get him crossed off the list.”
    Giada objects, “No, oh my god, the last thing I need is a conceited jerk like him. The other day I saw a boy, outside of school . . . I’ve never seen him before. Maybe if I see him again I’ll give him my number.”
    “There you go, at last! Good girl. You get started and you’ll see how much fun it is; you’ll start trying different flavors, just like ice cream. Which, now that I think about it, is a pretty good metaphor.”
    In spite of herself, Giada bursts out laughing. “You really are an incredible slut. What a pathetic choice I made when I picked you as my best friend!”
    “Oh, come on, without me you’d die of boredom, living your solitary life with Mammina dearest. Oh, go fuck yourself, why don’t you. I’ve got to get dressed; Christian’ll be here any minute. I bought a push-up bra that’s going to drive him out of his mind and forget about that tart’s silicone tits. Of course, if I had your breasts . . .”
    “Well, maybe I’ll lend them to you; you’d make better use of them than I do. Screw you, we’ll talk later on.”

CHAPTER 9
    Sweetheart, my darling,
     
    I found the boy. It wasn’t hard; the address was correct. First I had a taxi take me past there, then I went back on foot.
    You should have seen what that place looked like. In the middle of the city, one building crammed up against another, without a breath of air. I don’t know how these people live, without even so much as a glimpse of blue sky. Where we’re from it’s different, you remember? Fresh air, the smell of the soil; and then there are the seasons—snow in the winter, red leaves in autumn. In this city, if you ask me, nobody even knows what time of year it is: they go from summer to winter, and that’s all they know. Why you ever chose to leave our town is beyond me.
    Anyway, the location is perfect. There’s a little corner nook, you should see it, like it was custom built for the purpose. I even slipped into it last night. I fit like a glove, you know I’m not big; I’ve even lost weight. In perfect shape, you’d say.
    So, I wedged myself in and waited. I’d identified the scooter, there was no mistaking it, it was the same license plate number. I didn’t even have long to wait: an hour later he came out whistling a tune, unlocked it, unchained it, got on, and took off, without a helmet. Think of that.
    He’s not a bad-looking kid, maybe a bit muscle-bound. He had a funny haircut; maybe that’s why he didn’t wear a helmet. How ridiculous is that, risking your life so you don’t mess up your hair. Of course, how funny is it for me to be saying that, eh?
    Forgive me, my darling, but I feel slightly giddy today. I’ve waited so long, I’ve thought so much about it, and now that I’m here, I can hardly wait.
    I’m taking care of the details. I stopped by one of those African street vendors; he was selling counterfeit designer bags. They spread them out on a white sheet on the sidewalk, and when the police go by you should see them. They grab all four corners with all the merchandise inside and go running down the alleys. But of course you already know all these things. Anyway, as you can imagine I needed a carry bag, something to put the essentials in, something at least a yard long, capable of carrying a couple pounds’ weight, more or less.
    I thought to myself: if I buy a decent quality bag, someone will probably snatch it, and then where will I be? Can you imagine that: a mugger taking everything, after more than ten years of painstaking planning? So I’ll get a cheap, shabby looking bag that’s unlikely to tempt any bag snatchers. I looked and looked and I finally found the perfect one, and I pretended to haggle on the price, just to be inconspicuous, and I even saved five euros.