The Trouble With Flirting Read Online Free PDF

wasn’t welcome. It wasn’t until you broke up with her—”
    He grimaces. “And what fun that was, what with the tears and the screams and the begging—”
    “Yes, you did get emotional, didn’t you? But at least I was finally permitted to talk to you, and that’s when we became friends. And you learned to date less clingy girls.”
    Girls . Okay, so he’s not gay. Then why aren’t they a couple?
    I give up. Sooner or later we’ll know all about one another. I don’t have to figure it all out in the first hour.
    “Were you also in The Music Man ?” Julia asks Harry.
    “Of course he was,” Isabella says. “He was Harold Hill. Harry always gets the lead.”
    “It helps to be a guy,” he says. “There are always more girls than guys trying out for roles. You don’t even have to betalented, just willing to make a fool of yourself.” He jerks his chin at Lawrence and Alex. “Right?”
    “I take voice lessons,” Lawrence says seriously. “And acting classes. And dance.”
    Harry shrugs cheerfully. “Well, of course it doesn’t hurt to be hardworking and talented. I’m just saying you don’t have to be. I mean, look at how the girls outnumber the guys here.” He waves a hand at the students, and I look around. He’s right. There are probably four girls for each boy. “All we men have to do is show up.”
    “Whose phone is that?” Isabella asks, because there’s an unmistakable buzzing sound of a phone set on vibrate. She glances around the table. “Didn’t they say we weren’t allowed to use our phones except in our rooms at night?”
    “It’s mine,” I say, and pull it out of my pocket and read: Lunchtime is over . Thanks, Amelia.
    “It’s the first day,” says Alex. “I don’t think they’re going to really come down on us yet. But you should still probably hide it, Franny.”
    “It’s okay,” I say, texting back a quick BRB —I doubt she’ll know what that means, but let her spend time figuring it out—before sticking my phone back in my pocket. “I’m allowed to use mine.”
    “Why’s that?” asks Lawrence. “You special?”
    “My mommy always said I was.” I flutter my eyelids. “But, that’s not why—it’s because I’m not actually a student here.”
    “What do you mean?” Isabella asks.
    “She’s doing an internship with the costume director,” Julia cuts in.
    “It’s not exactly an internship.” I get to my feet. “More what you’d call a job—I’m working for the costume mistress. Who’s also my aunt. Not coincidentally.”
    “What’s it like?” asks Vanessa.
    “You know those nineteenth-century sweatshops where it was always incredibly hot and people had to work long hours under brutal conditions? Basically like that. Only with folk music.”
    “Sounds rough,” says Harry. “Especially the folk-music part.”
    “Yeah, that stuff’ll kill you. Anyway, I really do have to go back now.”
    “You’ll come to dinner here, though, right?” Julia says.
    “That’s my plan.”
    “We’ll save you a seat if we get here first.”
    “Thanks,” I say, oddly touched.
    “Oh, and one more thing,” Harry says. “If you’re going to be working on my costume, I feel it’s important you know ahead of time that I dress to the left. And that I need a lot of extra room over there.”
    I stare at him blankly. I have no idea what he means, but Isabella is laughing. I look to Julia, who’s equally confused. “What does that even mean?” She turns to her brother. “Alex?”
    He shifts uncomfortably. “I only know because Dad’s tailor asked me once, and Dad had to explain it to me. It has to do with the way guys’ pants fit . . .” He trails off.
    “How they fit?” Julia repeats.
    But Vanessa gets it. “He means which side they put their junk on when they get dressed,” she says calmly.
    “Oh,” I say. Then I wrinkle my nose. “Ew. TMI, Harry.”
    He smiles like a cat that’s pleased with itself. “Just felt someone should