isla and the happily ever after by stephanie perkins

“I could just tell something was different,” he says. People always laugh, because they don’t expect words like shit to come out of someone so petite, someone with a voice so quiet, so sweet. “Oh, shit.” I tuck up a leg and smack my kneecap on the table. I return the smile as full as I can, even though it hurts. “My wisdom teeth were removed this morning, and I’m taking all of these medications, but my mouth is still sore so that’s why I can only eat soft foods.”Īccomplishment puffs up inside of me. My compass necklace knocks against his tabletop. “But I’m starving, and there’s nothing to eat at home.” And then, somehow, I’m dropping into the empty seat across from him. But there’s no reason for anyone to remember that I live here, too. Everybody knows that Josh lives here, because his father has one of the New York seats in the United States Senate. We attend a boarding school for Americans in Paris, but we spend our breaks in Manhattan. I knew that about him, but I had no idea that he knew that about me. “I meant in the city? I knew you lived on the Upper West, but I’ve never seen you around.” “It’s strange, you know? That we’ve never run into each other before.” I’m grateful when he clears his throat to speak. His pale skin is a few shades darker from the summer sun, and his black tattoo peeks out from underneath his T-shirt sleeve.

I’m getting the increasingly alarming notion that if I keep talking, tomorrow I might have something to regret.īut…as if I can’t help it – because I can’t, not when I’m around him – I glance up. Like he can’t decide if we’re still having a conversation. He looks down at his sketchbook, and then back up, and then back down. My gaze returns to Josh, who is still watching me. “I’ll have a look in the kitchen.” And he stalks away. “Allergic to anything? You kosher? Vegetarian?” That’s all I’ve had to eat today,” I add. “But no tomato soup, chocolate pudding, or raspberry applesauce. “Are you okay?”Ī guy who looks like a young Abraham Lincoln with a piercing fetish tosses a single-page laminated menu onto my table. “Five classes beside each other, twelve classes together total.” We’ve sat beside each other in a ton of classes.” Josh glances around, as if searching for someone, and then cautiously sets down his pen. I erupt into a smile that immediately vanishes. You can pronounce my name.” Most people call me Iz-la, but I’m Eye-la. For a long time, a very long time, he just stares at me. Three years of desire rip through my body and burst from my lips: The atmosphere is clouded with bittersweet coffee. He’s close, only two tables over and facing my direction. My heart swells with a painful sort of euphoria. Shoulders rounded down, head cocked to the right, nose an inch from the tip of his pen. His posture is as familiar as a recurring dream. It’s midnight, it’s sweltering, and I might be high on Vicodin, but that guy – that guy right over there – that’s him.

Isla and the happily ever after by stephanie perkins