Free Girls in Pants: The Third Summer of the Sisterhood by Ann Brashares Page B

these thoughts.
    “That’s interesting,” she said faintly to the wall. She couldn’t let Valia see how these news bulletins affected her.
    Valia launched into her opinions, and Lena stopped listening. She finished up the pots and pans as quickly as possible, made a polite excuse, and rocketed up to her bedroom. She called Tibby and talked about nothing in particular. She cleaned her clean room.
    She got into bed with a book and tried, as she had so many other nights, not to think about Kostos.
     
    “He’s a little taller, don’t you think?” Bridget’s question floated up to the rafters a few feet above her head. Some of it made its way down to Diana in the bottom bunk.
    “Uh. Yeah, I guess.”
    Bridget tapped her toes against the metal rail at the bottom of her bunk. “God, he is cute. In my memory, I didn’t exaggerate that part of it.”
    “Bridget?”
    It was the deep, slow, irritated voice of Katie across the cabin.
    “Yeah?”
    “Will you shut up?”
    Bridget laughed. She appreciated bluntness. “Okay.”
    She was happy. She couldn’t help it. She was happy that Katherine was okay. She was happy that she felt happy instead of miserable at the thought of Eric Richman sleeping in a bed less than one hundred yards away. Bridget tapped her toes some more. She made a rhythm approximating “Walk on the Wild Side.” She tried turning onto her stomach. She cleared her throat. “Can I say one other thing?”
    “No,” Katie barked, but her bark belied a certain amusement.
    “Please?”
    “What is it, Bee?” Diana asked wearily.
    She’d had over twenty-four hours to digest the fact that she would be spending the summer with the mythical Eric. She’d seen him twice that day. They’d smiled at each other, though they hadn’t spoken. She was getting the same fizzing feeling she’d had when she’d met him the first time. And that was dangerous, maybe. But she was different now. She felt different.
    “I’m not sorry he’s here,” she informed Diana. “I think I might be okay about it.”
     
    LennyK162: Talked to Bee finally. Cannot believe about Eric.
    Carmabelle: Cannot either. She said she’s okay, though.
    LennyK162: Do we believe her? Do we go to Pennsylvania and drag her home?
    Carmabelle: Let’s give it a week.
     
    Today was the day Valia had her doctor’s appointment. Her kidneys had apparently been doing something funky, so she was supposed to get something or other checked once every two weeks at the hospital.
    It was their first outing, and Carmen welcomed it. Just leaving the house had to be good. Even if they both got squashed by a bulldozer on their first step down the front walk, it would be preferable to another long afternoon spent in the darkened Kaligaris den.
    Besides, today was also the day Carmen got to wear the Traveling Pants, and nothing magical was going to happen sitting inside with Valia close enough to squash it.
    They’d only been together for one week, and already Carmen and Valia were in a rut. After madly IMing and yelling at the computer—and at Carmen—for a couple of hours (while also listening to the TV), Valia’s energy would start to fade. Sometime around three o’clock she would change to a soft chair and her head would start to nod and swerve as sleep tried to claim her. This was around the time that Brawn and Beauty came on. Carmen would perch at the edge of her chair, and gingerly, slowly reach for the remote control. Then, waiting long minutes if necessary, she would watch for Valia’s wrinkly lids to shut. Then she would wait even longer. Then…slowly she would shift down the volume and slowly scroll through the channels. Her heart would be in her throat at this point. Once she got to channel four, she would imagine victory at hand, she would yearn for that first look at Ryan Hennessey’s turquoise eyes…and then…
    Valia would shoot straight up in her chair and bellow, “Zat is not my show!” and Carmen, in pitiful defeat, would turn back