The Oldest Virgin In Oakdale. Wendy Warren

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ toward final exams in physics. You want to be my tutor?”

      Eleanor struggled to swallow. Tuna on white stuck to the roof of her mouth. Reaching for a carton of milk, she sucked up as much liquid as she could, gulped, then replaced the carton clumsily on her lunch tray. “Okay.” She gave a jerky nod.

      It was without question the best “okay” she’d ever uttered.

      A plaintive meow from Gus commanded Eleanor’s attention, and she set the yearbook gently on the floor. Curving her arms around the big orange cat, she murmured, “What do you think he’s been doing all these years, Gus?” Gus purred and used her chin to scratch his nose. Eleanor rested her cheek on his head and sighed.

      Once upon a time, Cole had given her what no one else ever had—the chance to see herself as something special.

      As long as she lived, she would never forget the day Cole set his pencil down during one of their study sessions, leaned an elbow on the desk and stared at her while she described in detail the function of stomata in plant respiration.

      “Hey, Teach,” he’d murmured lazily, using the nickname he’d given her. Unabashed admiration shone in his eyes. “How come you know so much?”

      Pressing her nose to Gus’s fur, Eleanor closed her eyes. Being admired by Cole Sullivan had been heavenly.

      “Until I ruined it.”

      Gus meowed, alerting Eleanor that she was holding him too tightly and that his patience regarding dinner had come to an end.

      “Okay.” Standing with the cat in her arms, she walked to the kitchen, set Gus on the floor and spooned cashew chicken into his bowl. His tail twitched as he attacked his supper.

      “I let my imagination get the best of me, Gus.” And there had been no end to her humiliation once that happened.

      After that moment with Cole in the library, Eleanor had begun noticing things. The triumphant wink he gave her when he turned in his physics midterm, for example. Every glance, every smile started to seem profoundly personal. And Eleanor began to daydream in a way she never, ever had before.

      She—straight-A, left-brained she—had become a closet romantic in less time than it took to say, “I think I love you.”

      One afternoon, with fewer than three weeks before their senior prom, Eleanor found herself standing in front of Fortmeyer’s department store, somewhat dazed, as if she’d arrived by osmosis, staring at a window display of taffeta dresses.

      Without any awareness of a conscious decision, she was inside the store, putting a deposit on the frosty lime-green dress with the little shoulder-strap bows.

      “Gardenias would be the perfect complement to a dress this color,” the saleslady advised her. “Tell your date you want gardenias in your corsage.”My date. “Yes.” Beaming, Eleanor promised. “Yes, I will!”

      Somehow at that moment, the fact that Cole hadn’t asked her to the prom didn’t seem like much of a hurdle.

      She began dropping hints, subtle ones, she thought, about how hard they’d worked all year and didn’t they deserve a little fun?

      Preoccupied with grades and final exams, Cole hadn’t paid much attention. When there was only a week left before the big night, Eleanor got worried. So, during one of their regular afternoon study sessions, she mustered her courage and broached the topic as directly as she dared.

      “I was thinking about the prom.” Her gaze was riveted to the textbook in front of her. Her voice barely reached the decibel level of a whisper.

      Cole, on the other hand, sounded almost offhand as he replied, “So was I.”

      For a moment Eleanor didn’t move, could barely think. “You were?”

      “Yeah.” Hands clasped behind his head, he leaned back in his chair. His eyes narrowed, and a smile appeared. “What kinds of flowers do girls like, Teach?”

      “Flowers?”

      As if it had grown hummingbird wings, Eleanor’s heart fluttered against her rib cage. It was happening! Not the way she’d planned—in the library courtyard, underneath the elm tree—but it was happening!

      “Gardenias,” she said, anticipation singing in her veins. She would pay the balance on her beloved dress that afternoon.

      “Gardenias,” Cole murmured. “Hmm. They’re white, aren’t they?”

      “Yes.” She nodded happily. “With waxy petals. They’re subtropical of the genus Gardenia…”

      Ohh! Eleanor cringed the moment the words left her lips. This was not the time for a botany lesson! “They smell nice,” she concluded, frowning when a new thought occurred. “Gardenias may be expensive, though. Carnations would be just as nice.”

      “No problem.” Cole shrugged. Raising his arms, he stretched, pulling his T-shirt taut across his chest. “I’ve been saving money lately. You’ve fed me so many Oreos, I haven’t had to buy lunch for weeks.”

      Eleanor blushed. She packed the icing-filled cookies in her lunch bag and brought them to the library on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays not because she liked them—chocolate gave her a headache—but because she knew Cole had a particular fondness for them. Lifting her shoulders, she murmured, “You like Oreos.”

      “Yeah, I do. So,” he gazed up at the ceiling, “gardenias, hmm? Okay.”

      Lowering his arms and leaning forward, he leaned over his textbook. “I hope you’re right, Teach. Because Sue Ann Corning strikes me as the type of girl who needs a lot of color.”

      Eleanor’s smile froze. “Sue Ann Corning?” Her lips barely moved.

      Cole nodded. “I asked her yesterday.” Glancing up, he grinned. “She said yes right away.”

      Eleanor felt the sudden urge to guzzle air.

      Sue Ann Corning? Sue Ann, who filed her nails in U.S. History class?Sue Ann? The same girl who’d flunked algebra two years running because she forgot what time the class started?

      “You’re going to the prom with Sue Ann Corning.” It was a dazed statement, rather than a question. Sue Ann had earned quite a reputation in four years at Oakdale, but not for studying.

      “Last week you said you thought we worked too hard, that we needed more fun. Remember?” Cole’s grin broadened. “I can’t think of anything more fun than a date with Sue Ann.”

      Eleanor felt the rest of her congeal right along with her smile.

      One moment—that’s all it took for her dream to thud to earth like a hunted duck. Cole enjoyed her company, sure…when passing midterms was the goal. When he wanted a date, he didn’t give her a second thought.

      Frustration burned in her belly. For the first time since the start of their friendship, Eleanor felt as invisible in Cole’s eyes as she did with the other boys in their class. Except this was worse.

      Well, the next time Cole Sullivan wanted to impress a scholarship committee, СКАЧАТЬ