Galgorithm by Aaron Karo Read Free Book Online

healthier because there’s no dairy.”
    â€œThat feels like one of those made-up facts.”
    â€œNo, it’s true!” she says. “I heard it somewhere. Either Oprah or Twitter. I can’t remember.”
    â€œRight. Well, cheers.”
    Tristen and I clink our coffee cups together. She takes a sip and smiles. She has a great smile. Very disarming. Tristenis a pretty face, no doubt. But I’m hard-pressed to figure out if there’s anything beneath the surface. I know I’m being picky, but ever since Voldemort I’ve treaded carefully, terrified that I might go too far down the path with the wrong girl and have things end badly. All I’m asking for is a dose of personality from Tristen, who must be as bored as I am, because she’s tapping her nails on the table. Her nail polish is pink, and each ring finger also sports a yellow smiley face. I hate the fact that I know this is called an “accent nail.”
    Suddenly, Brooke perks up. She has been cooing with Anthony but apparently realizes she may have to better involve herself. “Hey, Tristen, tell Shane what you’re doing this summer.”
    I’m imagining a sleepaway camp dedicated to spray tanning.
    â€œI’m leading a Habitat for Humanity trip to the Midwest,” Tristen says. “We’re gonna build homes for families that lost them in all those tornadoes.”
    â€œWhat?” I stammer, and almost spit up some nine-dollar iced coffee.
    â€œUnfortunately,” she continues, “there are more than five million households in America that are in desperate need of new housing.”
    â€œI didn’t know that,” I say, attempting to recover. “Is that from Oprah or Twitter?”
    â€œThe US Department of Housing and Urban Development.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œIt’s just something I feel strongly about,” Tristen says. “We’ve, like, got it so good in Kingsview. I just think we should help other people out. Plus it’s an opportunity to really get my hands dirty.”
    I’m stunned. I try to imagine Tristen’s accent nails digging into dirt and making habitats for humanity. Apparently there is another side to her.
    â€œThat’s really cool,” I say, trying to keep the conversation going. “So, Brooke, you guys met at the Chronicle , right?”
    â€œYup,” Brooke says.
    â€œI really liked that fruit salad exposé, by the way,” I add.
    â€œAw, thanks.”
    Now I’m just buttering up everybody.
    â€œDo you do investigative journalism, too?” I ask Tristen.
    â€œNo, I have a fashion column. Have you read it?”
    â€œUh, no, I don’t think so.”
    â€œMy latest piece is called ‘Jeggings: Miracle or Disaster?’”
    â€œOkay . . .”
    â€œI’m also doing an article on the most blinged-out celebrity iPhone cases.”
    Tristen is apparently a Renaissance woman—part humanitarian, part fashionista. It’s not what I expected at all, and it’s intriguing. I glance over at Anthony and Brooke, who are now rubbing their noses together and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears. They are truly the perfect couple. And I helped make it happen. Yet Tristen still has me thrown.
    The last thing I need is a repeat of Voldemort and the events of freshman year. But Tristen seems worth the risk. I decide I want to go on another date with her, this time sans Hedgehog and Balloon. The only thing left to figure out is how to make it happen. Double-date-to-solo-date conversion is not an easy maneuver. We’ve been at Perkin’s for a while now, and I can sense the end of the date looming. I imagine what one of my clients would do if he were in a similar situation. Then I realize that most of my clients are slack-jawed mathletes who have trouble stringing together two sentences in front of a girl. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve dedicated my life to