The Girl Who Invented Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

romantic.
    Smoking. Tacos. Compost.
    And words that weren’t much of anything.
    Clock. Envelope. Kneecap.
    Maybe the quiz taker would give each word a numerical rating, one to ten. Which words were most likely to make a person think of romance? And the person taking the quiz would have to check off boy or girl because maybe some words meant more to boys than to girls, although personally I had seen little sign that boys had any words on their romance list.
    My last class of the day is American history. It was January, so we had passed the Civil War and were steaming on toward the Last Frontier. I had not read the chapter. Once my mother told me that if I put one-tenth the effort into school that I put into complaining about not knowing any boys, I’d at least be able to go to a good college where there are lots of good boys to put an effort into. She’s right, of course. The thing is, I can’t seem to get into studying. It lacks a certain something.
    Boys, I guess.
    I know I could study with some terrific boy sharing the desk.
    Oh well.
    Faith sat down next to me. She was so deep in her crush on Angie, she could hardly focus. Toothpaste was never marketed by a wider, whiter smile than Faith gave me as she dropped her history text onto the desk. “Kelly,” she whispered.
    “Yes, Faith.” I have sat with her through many an agonizing crush. I estimate that Faith runs about four serious crushes a year. Each one hurts her. It’s so unfair that love, of all things, can be so painful.
    “Do you think he’ll ask me out, Kelly? Lunch was just great. We laughed steadily. I mean, he’d have to want to do that again, wouldn’t he?”
    Fluffy brown hair circled her eager face. She has a face that makes the rest of us happy. A smile you have to reflect with one of your own. A sweet person, a good person. Had Angie seen this?
    Faith shook her head twice, denying the possibility, and then nodded twice, believing that it might really happen.
    “Got a twitch, Faith?” said Will, striding to his seat without waiting for an answer. We didn’t answer him either. From experience we knew he wouldn’t be looking our way again, because he didn’t intend to talk to us anyhow. He just meant to demonstrate his superiority with a wisecrack and then ignore us.
    What if Angie does ask Faith out? I thought. I will be the very last girl without a boyfriend. Like gym when they’re picking teams. I’ll be the one still sitting on the floor while everybody pities me and nobody wants me.
    “The sun is in my eyes,” I croaked. “I’m changing seats.”
    There was in fact a faint glint over by the windows. But I was moving to get control of myself before jealousy lodged in my heart. I refuse to feel jealousy toward my best friend. I slid into an empty seat.
    Will looked up, startled.
    Without planning, I had arrived at square four. Sit next to him.
    I looked quickly away. Mrs. Weston wasn’t saying anything interesting, so I opened my latest magazine underneath my textbook and flipped it open to the quiz. (I don’t bother with a magazine unless it has quizzes. I love to fill things out.)
    Test your intimacy quotient
, it said.
    Oh good. I always wondered what my intimacy quotient was.

    1. You want to spend an afternoon with Geoff. Will you suggest
    a. Frisbee tossing?
    b. Looking at his baby pictures?
    c. Making fudge?
    d. Shopping at the mall?
    2. He isn’t paying enough attention to you. Do you decide
    a. He’s too worried about his SATs?
    b. He likes another girl more?
    c. He’s gay?
    d. He’s getting the flu?
    3. You just aren’t close enough to the boy you love. Is it because
    a. He isn’t your ideal?
    b. You’re afraid of intimacy?
    c. You can’t relax with boys?
    d. He doesn’t like you enough to bother?

    I’d never give any answer suggested for question number one. But every answer for question number two and question number three was possible.
    I concentrated. I decided Geoff and I would make fudge.
    Mrs. Weston