Again, but Better by Christine Riccio Read Free Book Online Page B

ears.
    “How about we go through Hyde Park? It’s right down the street.” He points down the road toward a large gated area.
    I raise my eyebrows. “Whoa, off the beaten track. We might get lost.” That was meant to sound daunting and sarcastic, but it sounded happy.This excessive smiling has my vocal inflections all over the place.
    “Don’t worry, I’ll Magellan us back if we get lost.”
    I smile at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not worried.”
    “Good.” He smiles back.
    We walk in content silence as we make our way down the block and cross the street to Hyde Park. I don’t almost die this time, so things are already going smoother than they did on our last walk. There’sa large opening in the tall black gates that surround the park where we enter. It’s a nice day, so oodles of dog owners are out and about. Some people are reading on blankets and under trees. We start down a paved trail in the grass.
    I glance over at Pilot. “So, now you’ve read some of my stuff,” I start.
    “Yeah?” He grins. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. I’ve got one handin the pocket of the white zip-up I threw on and another clings to the leather of my cross-body purse.
    “When do I get to hear your music?” I ask.
    He snorts, but his eyes get bright like eyes do when you talk about something you’re passionate about.
    “Oh, man.” He looks at the sky. “Well, my first album is on iTunes.”
    “What?” I smack his arm in disbelief with my purse hand. He shoots me a dramaticlook.
    “Oh crap, sorry!” My voice gets pitchy as I try not to laugh. I heave a steadying breath. “Sorry, what I meant to say was: Is your album actually on iTunes? And why didn’t you mention this before?”
    He’s got this chill-modest-cool-guy half smile on. “Yes, it’s actually on iTunes, and it’s not that hard to get your album on iTunes.”
    “Pies, that’s so cool! Can I find it under your name or—howdo I search you?”
    “It’s under my band name.”
    “What! You have a band? You’ve left out so many details of your music life!”
    “It’s just me and my friend Ted, so it’s not like a full band.”
    “What’s your band name?”
    “We’re the Swing Bearers,” he shares with a giant grin.
    A short laugh bursts out of me. “Wow, I love that. It’s almost as cool as my blog. I mean, not quite as witty, but it’s gota nice ring to it.”
    He snorts. “Okay, calm down, French Watermelon. We can’t all be on your level.” The phrase French Watermelon sounds extra ridiculous when he says it.
    “I’m gonna download your album when we get back.”
    He presses his lips together. “I’ll excitedly await your review.”
    “Am I allowed to share with the roomies?”
    He shakes his head, smiling. “Go for it.”
    “This is so exciting!”I don’t exactly skip, but my feet do a weird jumpy-dance thing.
    I take stock of our surroundings. I haven’t been looking around enough. We’re approaching an opening back out into the city streets.
    “You think we go this way, then?” I ask.
    Pilot stops and puts his index finger to his forehead. “Card senses are tingling … that way.”
    I roll my eyes.
    We walk a little way down the street beforecoming up on a Starbucks. The familiarity of it amidst the culture shock of the last twenty-four hours actually brings me up short. I stop walking to admire it from across the street. Pilot backtracks a few steps and comes up on my right.
    “Starbucks!” I point across the way. “Doesn’t Starbucks feel like an old friend now?”
    He shrugs slightly with his hands still in his pockets. “Have you beensince we got here?” he asks.
    “No, not yet.”
    “Shall we go give her a visit?” He smirks.
    I snort. “A visit?”
    “I mean, is she your friend or not? I don’t want walk in on a random stranger,” he answers with mock sincerity.
    I scoff, “That was a stretch.”
    “Uh, actually I think that was pretty witty,” he responds, using the male