Can True Love Survive High School? Read Free

and out.
    “She's thinking, ‘If I talk on my cell while I wander around aimlessly with nothing to do, everyone will think I have a life,’” Mads said. She and Stephen were sitting on a bench at the marina on Sunday afternoon, watching the people stroll by and playing a game Stephen made up called “What Are They Thinking?” At that moment a platinum-haired girl walked slowly past a group of boys, chattering and laughing into her cell phone. Mads was convinced that she was pretending to be talking to some very witty friend for the boys' benefit.
    “She's fake laughing,” Mads said. “Look. She's saying, ‘You want to fly me to Hawaii in your private jet? But Hunter, I already have a date tonight.’”
    “And the boys are thinking, ‘Why is that girl walking so slowly? Does she think she's hot because she has a cell phone?’” Stephen said.
    “Oh look! Now she's thinking, ‘I hope no one noticed me picking my thong strap out of my butt,’” Mads said.
    “But someone did notice,” Stephen said. “Eagle-eye Mads.”
    Mads laughed. Stephen had a way of liking everything he saw in Mads—even the things she didn't like herself. It made her feel good.
    “What about that guy?” Stephen asked, pointing at a thirty-something man with a thatch of blond hair so stiff and perfectly coifed it looked like it had hairspray in it. Mads had never seen someone walk so stiffly, with such ramrod posture.
    “He's thinking, ‘If I don't move my head, my hair will stay perfect,’” Mads said.
    “Yeah,” Stephen said. “‘But if one single strand comes loose, I'll never be able to show my face in public again!’”
    Mads leaned against Stephen and he put his arm around her. She really liked him. She wished she could spend more time with him, but he was a junior and she was a sophomore, and they had no classes together. And most days after school he helped his mother in her studio. She was a sculptor and Stephen did apprentice work for her, cutting pieces of metal and wood to her precise specifications, welding, hauling things around, stuff like that.
    A good-looking couple strolled by, hand-in-hand. At the sight of them, Mads' breath caught in her throat. The boy was lean and broad-shouldered with longish, shaggy blond hair and a handsome face made somehow handsomer by a slightly too-big nose. The girl was blond, too, with straight hair and bangs and slender legs. The two of them had a golden aura of cool around them. They stood out.
    The girl, as Mads knew, was Jane Cotham, nineteen, a part-time student at Geddison, a local college. The boy was Sean Herman Benedetto, senior at RSAGE, star swimmer, and the monster crush, if not the love, of Mads' life.
    Stephen nodded at Sean and said, “He's thinking, ‘I wonder if my glutes look good in these jeans?’”
    “Heh, yeah,” Mads said, half-laughing. She was zoned out, staring at Sean. He had that effect on her. And she couldn't help thinking that his glutes
did
look good in his jeans. He gave Jane's hand a little tug, pulling her closer to him so he could wrap his arm around her. He was so into her. Anyone could see it.
    And Jane is probably thinking, “I'm the luckiest girl in town,”
Mads thought, but she didn't say it out loud. It was a good thing Stephen couldn't read
her
thoughts. She liked him a lot, but Sean … he was, like, on another level.
    They disappeared into a shop, and the spell was broken. Mads leaned happily against Stephen's thin arm. He was cool in his own way, so smart but not snobby. Mads could be flighty but Stephen saw through it. He found the sense in her nuttiness.
    “Too bad you don't have ESP like your mom,” Stephen said. “Then you could
really
read people's minds.”
    “Oh god, don't remind me.” Mads dropped her head on his shoulder. She knew what awaited her when she got home. That stupid play. Her mother, M.C., had been campaigning hard for Mads to audition for the part of “Teen Mariah” all week. Audrey already had all