The Perfect Guy (Books We Love Young Adult Romance) by Ann Herrick Read Free Book Online

exactly the direction it should. I can see us now at the graduation party."
    "I wish you luck." Celeste bit her lip. "I —I really do."
    "I haven’t forgotten you. I expect you to be there, too. Surely by now you have your eye on some gorgeous senior."
    "I don’t know." Celeste trailed a finger along the edge of her notebook. "I just can’t seem to get interested in anyone. I think I’ve overdosed on guys. I want to wait for, you know, someone special this time."
    "Well, don’t wait too long," I warned. "All the cute guys will get snapped up."
    "Don’t worry about me," Celeste said. Her faint smile was almost sad. "I won’t be disappointed if I don’t go to the graduation party. I have my feet planted firmly on the ground. You’re the one with your head in the clouds."
    " Pooh." I waved off Celeste’s concern. I was in too good a mood to let her remarks get me down. Besides, it was a beautiful day. Crocuses quivered in the grass and the fresh scent of spring floated in the air.
    At the corner of High Street I stopped. "I’m going to the Town Hall again to do research for the play."
    "Josh is all excited about working on that," Celeste said. "He’s looking forward to going to the library with you tomorrow."
    "Good. I can use the help."
    That evening I ran into Josh again on my way home. "You’re getting home late," I said. I knew it was after five, because I’d missed my ride with Mom again. "Isn’t baseball practice usually finished by now?"
    "Well, uh, I stayed for extra batting practice." Josh swung an imaginary bat. "Have to work extra hard if I expect to make the major leagues some day."
    "If determination counts for anything, you’ll make it."
    "You really think so?"
    "Sure," I said. "In most things, talent is necessary, of course. But persistence counts for a lot. You’ve got both."
    "I didn’t realize you were such a perceptive person." Josh grinned.
    At my house Josh made a fist and lightly tapped my chin. "Take care of yourself, sweetheart," he said, doing a Bogart imitation. We both loved old movies, so I usually recognized his references to them. "Remember, I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow morning to take you to the library."
    "See you then." I waved goodbye and went inside. Pres was setting the table.
    "Hi," he called. "You’re just in time. How about bringing in the salad?"
    "Sure," I said, disappointed that I hadn’t gotten home early enough to help him in the kitchen.
    At dinner I filled everyone in on my research.
    "I discovered some fascinating details about the early settlers, the blizzard of eighty-eight, and even a couple of local heroes in the Revolutionary War. There was Captain James Peck, a dashing blond officer, and his wife Alta, a beautiful dark-haired woman. She was against the fight for independence at first, but then joined in the war effort to defend Sandy Cove’s shores from British attack. I plan to make them the main characters in the play." I thought Pres and Celeste would be perfect in the roles.
    "You’ve done a lot of research," Bill said, when I paused long enough to take a breath. "In three weeks I’ll need an outline and part of a rough draft. I’ll have to start casting parts before too long."
    "Three weeks?" I wasn’t used to working with a deadline, but I guessed it was time to start. "Sure. Three weeks."
    "This year I’ve decided I need an assistant director. Since you have some theatrical knowledge, I’m assigning that task to you."
    I almost choked. Selling one play to a small magazine for elementary school students and painting scenery in a local summer production of Annie Get Your Gun when I was thirteen hardly qualified as theatrical knowledge. Of course being assistant director would be a way to get closer to Bill. Besides, I realized, he wasn’t really asking me, he was telling me.
    A little later, up in my room, I checked the time. It wasn’t too late to call Celeste.
    "Hi, it’s me," I said as soon as Celeste answered. "Guess what?