Fearless by Francine Pascal Read Free Book Online Page A

oversized drawstring army pants and her faded blue football tee. He’d loop an arm around her hips and draw her a little closer and order something she knew he’d order because he always ordered it. Then he’d order for her, too. Not because he was an asinine pig, but because he knew she loved hazelnut mochaccino even though it did cost six dollars. Then he’d pay, even though she’d tell him not to. And she’d say something so funny and adorable that he’d look at her, really look at her, and remember how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. Then he’d lean toward her and kiss her on the mouth. No tongue or anything. That would be tacky in the middle of a cafe. His kiss wouldn’t be long or filled with questions or expectations because he could kiss her anytime he wanted and he didn’t have anything to prove. It would be soft and real and simple, yet mean a thousand
    loving things. She would kiss him back, but not in a way that was desperate or inexperienced. And then—
    Gaia suddenly realized that the boy she was kissing in her mind’s eye had transformed. Gone were the dark hair and the suede jacket, replaced by ginger-colored hair that curled around his temples and a preppy gray twill jacket with a corduroy collar. And then she realized that this person who’d barged right into her fantasy was none other than him, the guy from the park—the guy who’d wandered by the chess tables. How did he get here? she demanded of herself stridently. Who invited
him?
    “Gaia?”
    She was so startled and unnerved that she forgot she even had hands, let alone a steaming mug of coffee in one of them. In horror she watched the mug sail from her grasp and the brown sugary stuff leap out of it and land all over the front of that very white, very crisp shirt of her alternate-universe best girlfriend.
    The girl screamed.
    “Oh, shit,” Gaia muttered.
    Suddenly everybody burst into motion: The fairly cute boy was grabbing up napkins, the girls were buzzing all over their friend, the other boy was plucking pieces of mug from the mess on the floor.
    Of course, Gaia knew that the right thing to do was
    apologize a lot, hand the girl a few napkins, make a self-deprecating remark, and offer to get her shirt dry cleaned. But for some reason Gaia did none of those things. She just stood there, gaping like a complete moron.
    The offended girl turned on her with narrowed eyes. “
Excuse
me, but you just poured boiling coffee down my shirt.”
    “I—,” Gaia began.
    “What the hell is your problem? Are you some kind of idiot? Could you at least apologize?” The girl didn’t look so pretty anymore.
    “I just—I—I’m really—”
    “Hel-
lo
?” the girl demanded. “English? Do you speak English?
Habla español?
” This was apparently humorous to herself and to her friends.
    Gaia really had been working up to a sincere and heartfelt apology, but this girl no longer deserved it. “Bitch,” Gaia said under her breath. It was completely the wrong thing to do. The worst thing to do, but Gaia had a talent for that.
    The ex-pretty girl stiffened. “
What?
Did you just say what I think you said? Who the hell do you think you are?”
    Gaia turned away at this point. It was the only thing to do. Gaia heard the girl railing and threatening as she returned to the table and a shell-shocked-looking Ed.
    “Gaia, can I ask you one question, just one, and this is really the last?” Ed didn’t wait for her to respond.
    “Do you get in fights
everywhere
you go?”

There’s This Girl
    “MARCO! OVER HERE.”
    Marco glanced around the Chinese restaurant casually, as if he hadn’t noticed her the instant he’d walked through the door. Man, she was hot. She was wearing dark denim jeans today and a formfitting pink sweater.
    “Hey, how’s it going?” he said, treating her to his most charming smile and sitting down across from her.
    She returned his smile and for a moment laid her hand on top of his. She was making him