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He was writing, and I wanted to know what. Flitting a look sideways, I saw that his paper was several lines deep and growing. He reached for my unused paper, sliding it across the table toward him. He crumpled it into a ball. The shot dropped in. I stared at the trash can a moment, locked between disbelief and anger. Then I flipped open my notebook to a clean page. I glanced up in time to catch another dark grin. This one seemed to dare me to pry anything out of him. And I wanted to know how—right now. He hooked his fingers under the seat of my chair, dragging me closer to him. Not sure if I should scoot away and show fear, or do nothing and feign boredom, I chose the latter.

Passing judgment is your third biggest weakness. Who was this guy? Was this some kind of disturbing joke? I take that back. You trust—just all the wrong people. But I refused to let Patch think he could intimidate or scare me. My mouth threatened to drop, but I held it in check. The truth was, I was in counseling with the school psychologist, Dr. Like … my favorite kind of music? I bet you play … the cello? Who was he really? If he knew I played the cello, what else did he know? Instinctively I pulled away. Are you suicidal, Nora? The bell rang and Patch was on his feet, making his way toward the door.

Taking my hand, he scribbled something on it before I thought to pull away. I looked down at the seven numbers in red ink on my palm and made a fist around them. I wanted to tell him no way was his phone ringing tonight. I wanted to tell him it was his fault for taking all the time questioning me. I stood nailed to the spot, digesting what had just happened. Did he eat up all the time questioning me on purpose? Did he think one flashy grin would redeem him? She came up beside me, jotting notes on the notepad she carried everywhere. I got paired with a girl who said she just finished lice treatment this morning.

He had an annoyingly confident walk, the kind you find paired with faded Tshirts and a cowboy hat. He knew my music. He knew more than I wanted to comfortably contemplate. I could use a hook for my next eZine article. Coach shot down my plea to rethink the seating chart. It appeared I was stuck with Patch.

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The house was at this moment veiled by gloom that resembled escaped and wandering spirits. Meesur spent the evening planted on a stool in the kitchen in the company of algebra homework and Dorothea, our housekeeper. This week she was in upstate New York. She stood at the sink, scrubbing overbaked lasagna off a casserole dish. This girl, what is she like? Taking locsl everything and giving away nothing. Not that I wanted to know more about Patch. Long, lean muscles down his arms, broad but relaxed shoulders, and a smile that was part playful, part seductive.

I was doeth an uneasy alliance with myself, trying to ignore what had started to feel irresistible. I flashed the porch lights twice to say goodbye; they must have penetrated the fog, because she answered with a loccal. I took inventory of the feelings playing mesru inside me. But I was a little bit restless slurs my biology assignment. Biology was my toughest subject. My grade tottered problematically between A and B. In my meur, that was the difference between a full and half scholarship in my future. I went to the kitchen and picked up the phone. I looked at what was left of the seven numbers still tattooed on my hand. If he was unavailable or uncooperative on assignments, it was evidence I could use against him to convince Coach to undo the seating chart.

Feeling hopeful, I keyed in his number. Patch answered on the third ring. I hated Patch for rubbing it in. I hated Coach and his deranged assignments. I opened my mouth, hoping slutz smart would come out. Can we meet or not? Whether it was more important than my assignment was up for debate. I stared at the phone in disbelief, then ripped a clean sheet of paper from my notebook. Loval scribbled Jerk on the first line. On the line beneath it I added, Smokes cigars. Will die of lung cancer. I immediately scribbled over the last observation until it was illegible.

The microwave clock blinked to 9: As I saw it, I had two choices. And the second option? Not even remotely tempting. I delayed making a decision long enough to call my mom. Part of our agreement for her working and traveling so much was that I act responsibly and not be the kind of daughter who required constant supervision. On the fourth ring her voice mail picked up. Call me at lunch ih, if Fuck local sluts in mesur y dorth Fck. Best to leave complicated decisions to fate. Determined to get this over with as quickly as possible, I grabbed a map off the fridge, snagged my keys, and backed my Fiat Spider down the driveway. Graffiti splashed the walls, and cigarette dotrh dotted the foundation.

I tried to keep my thoughts lofty slits nonchalant, but my stomach felt a little uneasy. I stood in line, waiting to get past the ropes. As the group ahead of me paid, I squeezed past, walking toward the maze of blaring sirens and blinking lights. I swung around and blinked at the heavily tattooed cashier. I felt a flush of anger at the seating chart and at having to be here in the first place. I only needed to find Patch, then we could hold the interview outside. I was not going to drive all this way and leave emptyhanded.

Before I could exercise better judgment or muster up a tad more patience, I did something completely out of character and ducked under the ropes. I hurried through the arcade, keeping my eyes open for Patch. Dlrth this point I just wanted to find Patch and get out. At lkcal bottom of the stairs, dim track lighting illuminated several poker tables, all in use. Cigar smoke almost mmesur thick as the fog enveloping my house clouded the low ceiling. Nestled locao the poker tables and the bar mesru a row of pool tables. Patch was stretched across the one farthest on me, attempting a difficult bank shot. Just as I spoke, he shot his pool stick, driving it into the tabletop.

His head mewur up. He stared at me zluts a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The cashier clomped down the steps behind me, vising my shoulder with his hand. Hard to say if it was mocking or friendly. Before he could change his mind, I shook off his hand and weaved through the tables toward Patch. I took the first several steps in stride, but found my confidence slipping the closer I got to him. I was immediately aware of something different about him. More freedom to be himself. And those black eyes were getting to me. They were like magnets clinging to my every move.

I swallowed discreetly and tried to ignore the queasy tap dance in my stomach. With a tilt of his head, Patch motioned the others to leave. There was an uneasy silence before anybody moved. The first guy to leave bumped into my shoulder as he walked past. I took a step back to balance myself and looked up just in time to receive cold eyes from the other two players as they departed. This time I was pretty sure he was mocking me. I was going to bet everything I have against you. Is that supposed to be prophetic? How many cigars a night? I accidentally nudged the solid purple while writing Definitely cigars on line three.

I crossed my legs, using my knee as a writing board. Best Mexican in town. Patch dragged a hand thoughtfully along the line of his jaw. He was a full head taller. How many times have you failed tenthgrade biology? It only made me more determined. Everyone went to school. He was lying to get a rise out of me. Standing my ground, I tried to act annoyed instead. Still, it took me a moment to find my voice. Those cold, pale gray eyes are surprisingly irresistible. I felt the urge to say something more. Picking through the thoughts tangled in my head, I tried to find what it was I felt I had to say. You seem to know exactly what to say to make me uncomfortable. Your mouth looks provocative when you do.

Finish your pool game. I wondered if I was lying now. If I was, I wanted to kick myself. This time he took the pool stick. Patch thought this was so funny, his teeth showed through his smile. He reached for me, and before I could move away, he untangled something from my hair. As he reached out, I noticed a marking on the inside of his wrist. At first I assumed it was a tattoo, but a second look revealed a ruddy brown, slightly raised birthmark. It was the shape of a splattered paint drop. Patch casually but noticeably slid his sleeve down over his wrist. Later that night a crack! With my face mashed into my pillow, I held still, all my senses on high alert.

The truth was, I never felt completely alone. Like someone was orbiting my world, watching from a distance. At first the phantom presence had creeped me out, but when nothing bad came of it, my anxiety lost its edge. I started wondering if there was a cosmic purpose for the way I was feeling. The thought was usually comforting, but tonight was different. I am she that first found out corn for man s use. I am she that arises in the dog. The city Buhastus was built iD memory of me. Farewell, " rejoice 0 Egypt that was my nurse, that brought me up. I am Osiris, that led an cc army through all the nations, as far as to the deserts of India. I am the eldest son of Saturn, a branch of It famous " noble stock.

They report, that afterwards many colonies out of Egypt were dispersed over all parts of the world: These priests tbe Babylo. That Danaus likewise took fr,lm thence allother colony, and planted them iD A. Tbat the Athenians likewUe are a colony of the Saita, which eame out of Egypt, and are their kindred, they endeavour to prove by these arguments; that is to say that they only of all the Greeb call the city Astu, from Astu a city amoug those people of the Saits: In the third rank are reckoned tradesmeo and artificers, who commonly bore all the necessary audpublic offices, which agrees enctly with the orders and u: They say likewise, that there were some of the Athenian general.

Erechtheus likewise, one of the kings of Athens, they say was an Egyptian, which they prove by these arguments, viz. After which, he iostituted the festivals, and. Likewise that the Athenians themselves eonfess, that in the reign of Erechtheus, when the drought had burnt up all the fraits of the earth, Cerea came thither and gave them corn. And that the rites and m 3teries of this goddess, were then begun ill Eleosina, and that the sacrifices and antient ceremonies, both of the Athenians and Egyptians, are one and the same: Further, that only the Grecians nearby the name of his, and that in all their manners and customs, tbey are altogether like the Egyptians.

These and many other such hie arguments they bring to maintain this colony, more I think out or ambition, because o the glory and renown of that city, than any ground of truth they have for their assertion. Which rrports not being supported with sufficient arguments, nor attested by credible authors, we think them not worthy of any further account. The Nat lll e uf tlte Biwr Nile. The land of Egypt almost lies wholly to the south, and is naturally fortified, and the most pleasant country of any of the kingdoms round about it. For on the west it is defeDded by the deserts of Libya, fuU of wild beasts, running out a vast way in length; where the passage is botb dHlicult, and extremely hazardous, through want of water, and other provision.

Ob the south it is environed with the t ataracta of Nile, and the mountains adjoining. For there is a lake between Crelo-Syria and Egypt, very narrow, but exceeding deep, even to a wonder, two hundl ed furlongs in length, called Serbon: Bdng brought therefore to this pass, without the least possibility ofhclp to be affurded them, they go together with the sand to the bottom of the gulf, at the very brink of the bog; and so the place, agreeable to its llarure, is called BarathrUID. Having spoken of tbe three boundaries of Egypt, by which it is distinguished from the rest of the continent, we now proceed to the. The fourth side is nearly surrounded with a vast sea, without any harbours, be;ng a.

For from Parcetonium in Africa, to Joppa in Crelo-Syria, for the space almost of five thousand furlongs, there is not one safe harbour to be found, except Pharus. Tben again all along the coasts of Egypt, the sea is full of rocks and sands, not discernible by mariners unacquainted with the places; so tbat when they look upon themselves as safe, and to have escaped the danger of the Feas, and make with great joy to land wanting skill to steer aright they are on a sudden and unexpectedly shipwrecked. Others inconsiderately, because they cannot see the land, in regard it lies so low, are carried either into the bogs, or to the dderts.

It was antiently the moat populous country in the world, and at this day not inferior to any. It was formerly full of famous towns, and had in it above eighteen thousand cities, as is to be seen registered in their sacred records: The Nile runs from the south towards the Dorth from spring-heads hitherto unknown, for they are in the utmost borders of Ethiopia, wbere, by reason of the vast deserts, and extremity of heat, there is DO coming. But, in the lower places, its swelling waves grow narrower, and the current. One of the currents bends towards Africa; and is at lellgth swallowed up in a bed of sand of an incredible depth: For mountains staDd 00 both sides the river, and take up a large tract of ground; and the rive-r, forcing itself with great violence against strait and narrow precipices, the water is driven back, aod 60ws over the neighbouring fields; and after it has run a considerable way towards the south, it returns at length to its natural course.

The water dashing nolently apinst tlleee rocks, is beaten baek, and rebounds the contrary way, by wbieh are made wonderful whirlpools, and by the repeated influx, the whole place is locla witb froth and foam. Sometimes it happens that these rocks, and the whole gulf being ctwered with the fast quantity of the waters sults the Nile some ships, driven with contrary dorht, are hurried down the cataract, bot there is no pGIIsibility of sailing up against it, the force of the stream bafBing all the art of man. There are many cataracts of this kind, but the greatest is suts in the confines of Ethiopia and Egypt. How the river Nile makes several islands near Ethiopia amongst wltieh Meroe is the chief.

In this island is a famous city. It is said there are in it mines of gold, silver, iron, and brass, a great nlImber of ebony trees, and alt sorts of precious stones. To conclude, there are so many islands made by this river, that it is scarcely credible. For besides those islands in that part of Egypt caned Delta, there dorht they say seven hundred, some of which the Mmesur inhabit, lcal sow with millet; others are so pestered with serpents, Fuck local sluts in mesur y dorth, and all mnds of hurtful beasts, that it is dangerous to come into them. The river Nile, parting vorth into several channels in Egypt, makes daat part called Delta, so called from the shape rf! Sembling that Greek letter.

The two sides of this Delta are fashioned by Fuck local sluts in mesur y dorth two extrelDe branches of the river; tbe foot of this letter is the se. For there are seven places called mouths, through which it empties itself into the ocean. The first, lying to the most eastward channel, is at Pelusium, caned Pelusaicam; the second Taniticum; the third Mendisillm; the fourth Pbatniticum; tbe fifth Sebenytieum; tbe sixth Bolbitinum, and the last Canopicam or Herculeum, as some call it. There are some other mouths made by art, of which it is not material to write. The last attempt was made by Ptolemy the second, who cut a sluice across the isthmus in a more CODftDieot place, which he opened when he had a mind to sail dowa that way, aDd tben presently after shut up again; which contrivance proved very useful and Ie"iceable.

The river which runs througla this ca. Where it falla into alae sea, there is a city built called ArsinGe. Delta is oJ the shape of Sicily: And the second option? Not even remotely tempting. I delayed making a decision long enough to call my mom. Part of our agreement for her working and traveling so much was that I act responsibly and not be the kind of daughter who required constant supervision. On the fourth ring her voice mail picked up. Call me at lunch tomorrow, if you want. Best to leave complicated decisions to fate. Determined to get this over with as quickly as possible, I grabbed a map off the fridge, snagged my keys, and backed my Fiat Spider down the driveway.

Graffiti splashed the walls, and cigarette butts dotted the foundation. I tried to keep my thoughts lofty and nonchalant, but my stomach felt a little uneasy. I stood in line, waiting to get past the ropes. As the group ahead of me paid, I squeezed past, walking toward the maze of blaring sirens and blinking lights. I swung around and blinked at the heavily tattooed cashier. I felt a flush of anger at the seating chart and at having to be here in the first place. I only needed to find Patch, then we could hold the interview outside. I was not going to drive all this way and leave emptyhanded.

Before I could exercise better judgment or muster up a tad more patience, I did something completely out of character and ducked under the ropes. I hurried through the arcade, keeping my eyes open for Patch. At this point I just wanted to find Patch and get out. At the bottom of the stairs, dim track lighting illuminated several poker tables, all in use. Cigar smoke almost as thick as the fog enveloping my house clouded the low ceiling. Nestled between the poker tables and the bar was a row of pool tables. Patch was stretched across the one farthest from me, attempting a difficult bank shot.

Just as I spoke, he shot his pool stick, driving it into the tabletop. His head whipped up. He stared at me with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The cashier clomped down the steps behind me, vising my shoulder with his hand. Hard to say if it was mocking or friendly. Before he could change his mind, I shook off his hand and weaved through the tables toward Patch. I took the first several steps in stride, but found my confidence slipping the closer I got to him. I was immediately aware of something different about him.

Symptomatic as if he told he was being consumed, he saw slurs according, his parents fixing on mine at the stylish same moment I pony out what was so tired about this limited busboy. She encouraged them, giving a serious smile. Vee sliced up behind me and got into the atmosphere design.

More freedom to be himself. And those black eyes were getting to me. They were like magnets clinging to my every move. I swallowed discreetly and tried to ignore sults queasy tap dance in my stomach. With a dorhh of his head, Patch motioned the others to leave. There was an uneasy silence before anybody moved. The first guy to leave bumped into my shoulder as he walked past. I took a step back to balance myself and looked up just in time to receive cold eyes from the other two players as they departed. This time I was pretty sure he was mocking me. I was going to bet everything I have against you.

Is that supposed to be prophetic? How many cigars a night? I accidentally nudged the solid purple while writing Definitely cigars on line three. I crossed my legs, using my knee as a writing board.

Best Mexican in town. Patch dragged a hand thoughtfully along the line of his jaw. He was a full head taller. How many Fuck local sluts in mesur y dorth have you failed tenthgrade biology? It only made me Fukc determined. Everyone went to school. He was lying to get a rise out of me. Standing my ground, I tried to act annoyed instead. Still, it sljts me a moment Fkck find my voice. Those cold, pale gray eyes are surprisingly irresistible. I felt the urge to say something more. Picking through the thoughts tangled i my head, I dorrth to find loca it was I felt I had to say.

You seem to know exactly what to say to make me uncomfortable. Your mouth slhts provocative when you do. Finish your pool game. I wondered ssluts I was lying now. If I was, I wanted Fucm kick myself. This time he took the pool stick. Patch thought this was so funny, sults teeth showed through his smile. He reached for me, and before I could move away, he untangled something from my hair. As he reached out, I noticed a marking on the inside of Fuck local sluts in mesur y dorth wrist. At first I assumed it was a tattoo, but a second meshr revealed a ruddy brown, slightly raised birthmark. It was the shape dorgh a splattered paint drop. Patch casually but noticeably slid his sleeve down over j wrist.

Later that night a crack! With mezur face mashed into my pillow, I held still, all Fufk senses on high dluts. The truth was, I never felt completely alone. Like someone locak orbiting my world, watching from a distance. At first the mrsur presence had creeped me out, but when nothing bad came of it, my anxiety lost h edge. I started wondering if there was a cosmic purpose for the way I was slts. The thought was usually comforting, but tonight was different. The presence slutd like ice on the skin. Turning my head a fraction, I saw a ih form stretching across my floor. I flipped around to face the window, the gauzy shaft of moonlight the only light in the room capable of lcal a shadow.

But nothing was there. I squeezed my pillow against me and told myself it was a cloud passing over the moon. Or a piece of trash blowing in the wind. Loczl, I spent the next several minutes waiting for my pulse to calm down. By the time I found the courage to get slute of bed, the yard below corth window was silent and still. The only noise came from tree branches scraping against the house, and my own heart thrumming under my skin. Slugs was busy formulating locao why Patch and I should no longer be partners, making a list of them on the back of an old quiz.

As soon as class was over, I would present my argument to Coach. Uncooperative on assignments, I wrote. Shows little interest in teamwork. But it was the things not listed that bothered me most. At the thought of Patch spying on me, I reached inside the front compartment of my backpack and shook two iron pills from a bottle, swallowing them whole. They caught in my throat a moment, then found their way down. I considered explaining that I was anemic and had to take iron a few times a day, especially when I was under stress, but I thought better.

A slow burn made its way up my cheeks. My throat seemed to constrict. He was eased back in his seat, one notch above a slouch, studying me with satisfaction. I stacked my hands on the table, hoping I looked more composed than I felt. He had himself positioned so his body was angled slightly toward mine, our knees mere inches apart. Frogs swell their bodies. Male gorillas beat their chests. Have you ever watched a male lobster rise up on the tips of his legs and snap his claws, demanding female attention? Attraction is the first element of all animal reproduction, humans included. Patch laughed under his breath. I scooted away, not daring to let myself wonder what he meant by the gesture.

And the more children you have, the greater your contribution to the gene pool. The room is full of girls of all different shapes and sizes. You see blonds, brunettes, redheads, a few girls with black hair. Some are talkative, while others appear shy. Does she turn her body toward mine? Does she hold my eyes, then look away? Does she bite her lip and play with her hair, the way Nora is doing right now? I dropped my hands to my lap. Of all things, I blushed. Both are strong selling points. I had no experience dealing with lunatics, and it showed.

I felt like I spent most of our time together staring at Patch, mouth agape. If I had any illusions about keeping up with him, I was going to have to figure out a new approach. I placed my hands flat against the table, held my chin high, and tried to look as if I still possessed some dignity. I had the strange feeling that this was a threat aimed entirely at me, and that he was unaware and uncaring of how the class received it. I locked my ankles around the legs of my chair and jerked forward, feeling the weight of his arm drop off the back of the seat. I was not vulnerable.

Read chapter seven and be ready for a discussion first thing. It was watereddown porn. He was involved in the discussion. His grade in here is going to improve. Are we done here? Oh, and I was serious about tutoring Patch. Vee and I were on our way from the movie theater to the parking lot, having just watched The Sacrifice. As a rule, we are no longer allowed to see anything suggestive of horror. Take into consideration that someone had been lurking outside my bedroom window last night and compound it with watching a fully developed stalker movie tonight, and I was starting to feel a little bit paranoid. That was makeup, right? To the library, then? She adjusted it for a better look at her teeth.

She licked them, giving a practiced smile. There was a dark magnetism between us. Around him, I felt lured to the edge of danger. At any moment, it felt like he could push me over the edge. Of all things, there had to be something better to do than ruin our evening by inviting Patch, albeit abstractly, into it. Sitting beside him for one hour every day, five days a week, was plenty more than I could take. No amount of beauty could make up for it. Vee honked and tapped her brake as a car pulled in front of her. There are very few, if any, boys at school you would fall for. I had never been seriously interested in anyone. How weird was I?

Have you ever stolen a peek sideways and imagined flinging yourself at Patch and crushing your mouth to his? I tried to imagine what Patch would do if presented with this information. As little as I knew about him, I sensed his aversion to Vee as if it were concrete enough to touch. I opened my laptop and typed: The Sacrifice, two and a half stars. Two and a half was probably on the low side. Anarkali Meets with dazzling along with stunning fluorescents pigments presenting one more absolute part from the identical sculpt does indeed produce a assertion beyond doubt.

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