We Love Only Older Boys [antikvár]

True Lave At Last? "Ooh, Louie! That tickles!" I heard Ellen giggle. "Hold my hand, don't play with it!" My heart dropped. So this was it. I had wanted proof of how Louie felt, and now I had it. He was obviously choosing Ellen over me. Tears burned my eyes. I tried sniffling them back, but they kept on coming. I don't know if Louie heard me crying or just sensed that I was upset. But at that moment his hand touched my shoulder. Then his arm went around me. I couldn't believe it! I quickly wiped my eyes and snuggled up to him. It was the most wonderful feeling to be so close to Louie. He must like me. He must! Louie's face was right up against mine. I was afraid to breathe. Was he finally going to kiss me? Cfu^terOne o. 'ne thing I've noticed about iife; it's filled with all sorts of surprises. The littlest incident—a change of plans, a chance meeting—can start a whole chain reaction of things happening. Before you know it, your life has changed and will never be the same again. That was just what happened the day Jan Ziegle-baum and I decided to take the subway home from Huntington, the school we go to, instead of our customary bus. There, in the very car we wound up in, was sitting none other than the great Sheldon Emory. And it was that chance meeting that really started everything. To understand the importance of all this, you have to know what is so great about Sheldon. He's sixteen years old and absolutely gorgeous! Not only that, but I get the credit for having discovered him in the first place. It was way back when I was in sixth grade, and still having silly crushes on immature boys my own 1