The Saints of the Cross Read Online Free PDF Page B

Spain. I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on with him.”
    I give her my no way in hell look.
    “Yes, I insist, Evangeline Sweeney!” Her voice is uncharacteristically authoritative, and I know I’ll not win this argument.
    “Fine,” I concede, mostly out of self-preservation. My ears cannot take much more of her screeching. “But there’s a condition: absolutely no spying on him or stalking him. If you happen to see him out and about, then fine. But I don’t want you following him around and actively trying to dig up incriminating stuff on him. Got it?”
    “Why do you have to be such a buzz-kill?” she frowns. “I have very few talents in this life. One of them is singing, as you well know. The other is snooping, as you may or may not know. You are denying me the basic human right to express my God-given gifts, which I’m sure is some form of Cardinal Sin when you consider how amazing said gifts are.”
    “I mean it, Cora!” I try to be severe, but it’s a difficult task with her. She looks like an Asian cherub with her baby-soft face and round belly, but then she opens her mouth and destroys all illusions. “If you’re going to stalk Javier, then I won’t take your calls. It’s as simple as that.”
    “What? You’d do that?”
    “Yes, you better believe I would.”
    “Fine.”
    “Fine what?”
    “Fine, I won’t spy on him or do any snooping. Okay? Satisfied?” she says, sticking out her lower lip in a bratty pout that only shows itself when she’s feeling particularly put-upon.
    “Yes, thank you,” I smile and wrap an arm around her. “We should be planning out the last month we have to spend together instead of fighting.”
    “I’m probably going to have to share you with the Spaniard, right?” she asks with an even more pronounced scowl.
    “Stop with the pout, Cora. It only works on your parents and love-struck underclassmen. Okay?” I laugh.
    “True that,” Cora shrugs, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. She does have her fair share of freshmen admirers.
    “Besides, we have the rest of the week to spend together. Javi’s in Italy visiting his mother.”
    “For how long?” She gives me one of those expressions that she typically reserves for the algebraic linear equations Mr. Smelts likes to spring on us at eight a.m. I know I’m in for it.
    “Until next Monday. Why?” I ask, guarded.
    “It’s odd, is all,” Cora says, but I can see the wheels turning in her perplexed little head.
    “Why?”
    “Because he knows he only has a few short weeks left with you. Instead of spending every minute possible together, he jets off to Italy to vacay with his mother?” She furrows her brow. “There’s just something wrong with that. I mean, he can visit her anytime he wants.”
    “He was planning to visit when we met last fall, but kept putting it off to spend time with me. I don’t think it’s a big deal, Cora.” But I lie. I’m more than a little hurt by his decision. I mean, why does he just have to visit his mom now? He’s been putting it off for months—what are a few more weeks?
    Suddenly, there’s a rattling noise at the door as Cora’s mother, Ludi, attempts to enter the room.
    “Cor-wah-lee! Eee-bee! Wha yew do derh? Yew whan da loom-pee-ah?” she screeches in her pixie voice from the other side of the door. Cora and I look at each other and snicker under our breath at Ludi’s thick accent. There’s no doubt in my mind where Cora gets her nails-on-a-chalkboard voice.
    “Mom, we’ll be right there!” Cora hollers back, although I think she could’ve used her normal voice and been heard just fine through the hollow door. She turns back to me and says, “Let’s go, I’m starving. We can talk about this later.” She swings her legs over the bed.
    “There’s nothing left to discuss, other than what we’re going to be doing over the next four weeks,” I say, cutting off any further dissection of my love life. It’s really starting to