The Jinx. Jennifer SturmanЧитать онлайн книгу.
night, you are my starry skies. But how can I confess my forbidden love? I cannot. One day, perhaps, but not today.
I didn’t blame whoever had written it for leaving it unsigned—it was awful.
“Yeesh,” I said. “Are they all like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nauseating?”
“You think it’s nauseating?”
“Well…” I cast about, trying to find a more appropriate word, but came up empty. “Yes. Nauseating. So gushy and gross.”
“Which one are you looking at?” he asked me.
I handed it to him, and he skimmed it. “Oh. I thought this one was sweet. Romantic, with the Keats and everything.”
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