Free Crazy in Love by Cynthia Blair Page A

date with Dan and Fred?”
    “How could I ever forget?” I groaned. “That experience has warped me for life.”
    “Well, you know what I mean, then. Those guys are so immature, so irresponsible ... and I have this uncanny feeling that Saul isn’t like that at all. He seems so ... so stable.”
    “Maybe. I don’t know him that well.”
    Rachel sighed. “I don’t know how I’ll ever manage to fall asleep tonight. See, my mom was right. It’s just a question of time before we meet nice, mature boys. Oh, Sallie, I hope you start going out with somebody like Saul, too!”
    “Yeah,” I said glumly. “Well, look, I’d better hit the sack. Big French test tomorrow.”
    “Okay. See you in school! And Sallie?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Thanks for introducing me to Saul. I know you weren’t trying to match us up or anything ... but thanks just the same. I have this feeling that things are going to work out really well for us.”
    “Sure. Anytime. Bye, Rachel. See you tomorrow.”
    That night it took me a long time to fall asleep. Maybe it was because I was confused, maybe it was because I was stunned—or maybe it was because I knew I wouldn’t be dreaming about mischievous grins and dark mustaches any more.
     

Chapter 6
     
    Whenever I get upset or depressed , there are two things I do. The first is to take long walks around New York City. There’s no better way to forget your troubles than by strolling around the Lower East Side, for example, where Mott Street, the heart of Chinatown, runs parallel to Mulberry Street, whose cappuc cino bars and bakeries carry you to Italy. Or Spring Street, filled with galleries and poster shops and tiny bookstores that look as if they got stuck in a time warp and still think it’s 1968. Even my own neighborhood is fun to poke around in. It seems as if every time I stroll down Second Avenue, there’s some new store or restaurant that didn’t exist until five minutes earlier, when it magically sprang up out of nowhere.
    The whole week after I discovered that Saul had asked Rachel out, I did a lot of walking. I also did a lot of eating, my second way of dealing with bad moods. The rest of Jenny’s cookies were the very first to go. After that I became less choosey. Anything would do. Besides eating and walking, I found myself avoiding Rachel. I pretended I had a big test to study for, when the only test I really had was the test to see how many Oreos one person could consume at one sitting.
    It was Jenny, the cookie monster herself, who eventually came to my rescue. On Friday evening, the night that I knew Saul and Rachel would be going out together while I was left behind, she found me putting my jacket on around seven in the evening, the dating hour.
    “Where are you going?” she asked cheerfully.
    “I thought I’d hike over to Ray’s and get myself a couple of slices of pizza. That way I can indulge in both eating and walking in a single outing.”
    “I’ll come with you,” she offered, heading to her room to grab a heavy sweater.
    “I thought you were going to paint tonight,” I said, a little cross. I’ve never liked the idea of being pitied, especially by a thirteen-year-old.
    “It can wait. I’ve lost my inspiration. Besides, a piece of pizza sounds like a good idea. I love Mom dearly, but her meat loaf is not exactly known as one of New York’s finer delicacies.”
    The two of us started across town, over to Ray’s.
    “It’s a nice evening,” Jenny noted cheerfully.
    “I wish it would rain,” I said, scowling.
    “Maybe you’d like to tell me about it.” Sometimes Jenny amazes me with how serene and well adjusted she is. Suddenly I realized that even though her ears were not particularly experienced, they would be sympathetic and possibly even consoling.
    “It’s Saul.”
    “Oh. I thought it might be.” She paused as we moved aside to make room on the sidewalk for an out-of-breath jogger. “I’d noticed he hasn’t been around lately.”
    “We’re