The Curiosities (Carolrhoda Ya) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Gopher leaned his forehead against the building, his face in shadow. “She’s never going to get with you.”
    Gopher didn’t answer. When Marcus jabbed him in the ribs, he twisted away, turning toward the dark chilly sky and the cottonwoods. Toward the girl sitting huddled in the bare branches. His eyes were wide and glazed, staring into mine. He opened his mouth, started to say something, but no sound came out.
    “What are you looking at?” said Marcus, glancing over his shoulder.
    “The girl,” muttered Gopher. “The one in the tree.”
    I shrank closer against the trunk, pulling my legs up and tucking them under my purple dress.
    “There’s no one up there.”
    “There was,” said Gopher. “I saw her.”
    Then he put his head down and heaved some more, and Marcus shoved him in the back and told him what a loser he was for getting all sloppy over Bethany, for not just asking her out, and Sharif stood with his hands in his pockets, looking awkward.
    I sat in the cottonwood, shivering. Trying to forget the naked feeling of Gopher Fitch’s eyes on mine, like I was the only thing worth seeing. Like he was never going to look anywhere else.

    The expression on his face had been stricken, and I’d done it to both of us. Because I was needy, because I was lonely. Because I was too stupid to remember that Gopher Fitch’s real name is actually Colin. This was the consequence, because I’d asked for it. I wrote it down, called it into being, and now it was mine because that was how the magic worked.
    Simple. Right.
    Gopher Fitch slumped against the wall, staring up at me while Marcus flicked the side of his face with his index finger and tried to make him flinch.
    I sat in the cottonwood tree, hugging my knees and trying not to sob.



A HISTORY OF LOVE
by Maggie Stiefvater
    This is a story about secret love. (Yay, secret love!) As you may have guessed, I have a special place in my heart for all things uncomfortable and covert. The thing that makes this particular story both hilarious and poignant is the juxtaposition between the couples. The drama of Daphne and Apollo provides a nice backdrop for the genuine love story, which is slow and understated and real. And also proves that sometimes hand-holding is just as good as kissing. —Brenna
    Although I adore reading funny stories, they are a devil to write. I very rarely attempt to be intentionally funny through a story, but this was one of those times. I sincerely hope you laugh at least once, and if you don’t, please don’t tell me. Also, please note: I was a history major. —Maggie

    I am lady-in-waiting to the goddess of Carlton University’s history department.
    Today, Daphne, the goddess herself, was invited to go to the new mall with Brendan. Because she hates being alone with him, I have to go with. I don’t mind because Brendan, being the Apollo of CU’s history department, has his own manservant and fool, Andy. Andy and I get along because we both understand what it is like to be attendants to campus royalty.
    So it is a beautiful spring day. I have cut Psych 102 to be a part of this trip, and Andy has skipped a required meeting with his advisor. I sit in the backseat of Apollo’s BMW with Daphne, because Daphne cannot bear to be in the front seat with him. What if he looked at her! Gasp! Her reputation would be mud.
    Andy sits in the front seat with his window rolled down. It blows his sandy hair straight back from his forehead and whips Daphne’s hair around like a shih tzu in a tornado. She looks pissed as she and Apollo argue about the best way to get to the new mall.
    “The new cut-through would be faster,” she says. She makes a big show of patting down her windblown hair; the gesture is lost on Andy, who can’t see her in his mirror.
    “It might be, but I’m driving, so we’re going to try using my brain instead,” Apollo replies.
    “I would drive if you ever climbed off your chauvinistic marble pedestal. Instead we must take your