This Changes Everything Read Online Free PDF Page A

withdrew a morsel of the pastry. “How apropos. A peach from a peach.” She winked at him.
    Tension that had clung to his deepest thoughts finally faded away. He looked around the platform with distaste. “What’s that smell?”
    “Humanity,” she said, her mouth full.
    “We’re outside. It’s windy. It shouldn’t smell so bad.”
    “Urine odor really clings.”
    “I’m so glad I left the A4 at home.”
    “God, you’re such a princess.” She took off her hat and put it on him, dragging pink sequins across his forehead just as the train honked its arrival into the station from the east. “There. That’s better.”
    Because he liked seeing her without the hat, he left it on his own head. He followed her into the car, wrinkling his nose at the stale, sour smell of its carpeted interior. But he didn’t mind that as much as the lack of any empty seats. Pink hat on head, he shimmied between the Sunday morning crush of bodies to a small open space near a pole they could cling to when the car lurched forward.
    She watched him with narrowed eyes. Even under low-wattage lighting, they were a stunning blue. “Don’t say anything,” she said.
    “What’s that smell?” he asked loudly. People around them turned their heads slightly, frowning, and he grinned at the pink spots that bloomed on her cheeks. For all her jokes and sarcasm, she was ridiculously easy to embarrass.
    She turned away from him, casting him into the ranks of other crazy, unwanted subway creeps, and didn’t talk to him until they were under the streets of downtown Oakland. “Where were you Thursday anyway?” she asked.
    The horde now pressed them closer together. He lowered his head closer to hers so he didn’t have to shout over the rumble of the train. “Later.”
    “Why, was it illegal?”
    “You’ll give me a hard time.”
    Her mouth dropped. “You were working.”
    He’d expected her to see right through him, and she had. He hung his head in only partially mock shame. “I was.”
    She didn’t make a joke, just stared at him with those bright blue eyes of hers. “I can’t believe you.”
    “I’m too young to retire,” he said.
    “But to go back to work after only two weeks? Not even two weeks!”
    “I was going crazy,” he said.
    “You were already crazy.” She rolled her eyes. “I knew it wouldn’t last forever, but I thought it might last the month at least.”
    Shooting an eavesdropping lumbersexual a dirty look, he pulled her a few cramped inches away. “I’m not working yet. Just setting something up for later.”
    “Right. Like Monday morning, I bet.”
    “Not at all. You were right. I do need a vacation.”
    “Tuesday?”
    He smiled and gave up for now. He’d ask for his favor when they were out in the sun, breathing fresh air, and had more than three inches of space around them.
    The train lumbered through the Transbay tunnel between Oakland and San Francisco. He tried not to think about the cold, shark-infested waters swirling over their heads and was glad when they reached downtown San Francisco. They got off the train at the Montgomery station and went up to the street.
    “Ah, how beautiful,” he said, looking around at the tumbleweeds of garbage bouncing along the financial-district sidewalks. “No wonder this Golden Gate Bridge thing is so famous.”
    “Very funny. Follow me. The bus stop isn’t far.” She already had her phone out and was scrolling through the screens. “My excellent and free transit app tells me it’ll be here in six minutes.”
    “We could just walk down to the Ferry Building,” he said. “Grab some lunch. Walk through the farmer’s market and relax.”
    “No way. It’s pushing seventy degrees, and it’s sunny, and it’s not even noon yet. We’re going to the Golden Gate Bridge, buster.”
    “Watch your language.”
    “Watch your step. There’s some humanity clinging to the sidewalk down there.”
    He dodged the dark puddle she was pointing at, biting his lip to