Book of the Sword by Carrie Asai & Annabelle Verhoye

Author:Carrie Asai & Annabelle Verhoye [Asai, Carrie & Verhoye, Annabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780689859489
Amazon: 0689859481
Barnesnoble: 0689859481
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2003-06-01T05:00:00+00:00

After a few rounds Hiro ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay, Heaven. I give up. Maybe we do need a break."

"Yippee!" I danced around the practice room.

"Let's finish our morning practice, and if you get down to work, we can take the afternoon off," Hiro told me. "It will give you time to contemplate your mission, and I have a few things need to take care of, too."

My mission. He thought a fun afternoon off was thinking about how to accept death? The boy needed to lighten up. "Excellent," I said. "I will be the best Crouching Tiger ever, you'll see."

"Just be the best samurai-in-training, how about that?"

"Your wish is my command." I crossed my arms in front of my chest and made the I Dream o Jeannie nod-and-blink. I felt iike hugging him but wisely restrained myself. I thought maybe ' was falling victim to this thing I'd read about called Stockholm syndrome. It happens when hostages get really attached to their captors and start to be grateful to them and stuff. Hiro spent hours and hours every day torturing me, and he just seemed cuter and cuter. When he smiled at me, I turned all gooey inside. And he was more than just cute. He was so much more complete than the other boys I'd met, friends of Ohiko's, mostly. He radiated purpose and calm. He was a grown-up. And did I mention his butt? I'd gotten a lot of good looks at it during our practice sessions, and I'd decided it was one of the ten best butts in Hollywood.

Living together seemed right somehow. I admitted to myself that there was an element of "crush" to the way I felt about him. And that it was so not appropriate. I didn't feel less like I was in mourning or less alone. But I was having a hard time hiding my feeling for Hiro from myself. In the few moments when I felt happy, feelings about Hiro crowded in, like beautiful gate-crashers at a party. I couldn't stop them. I didn't want to.

I was a model pupil for the rest of the morning. "So what do you want to do?" Hiro asked when we were done.

"Besides all the huge stuff, the one thing in the world that would make me happy is if I could go shopping for clothes," I told him.

Hiro looked surprised. "Why?"

"Why? Well, basically because I have one pair of underwear, one pair of jeans, and one T-shirt to my name. If that girl Cheryl hadn't given me these flip-flops, I'd be barefoot! You know I can't wear those stinky sneakers you gave me except at the gym." I kicked my foot up in his face for emphasis—what with all the aikido and the stretching I was getting really flexible.

"But you wear gi all morning for practicing, and you have two of those. The sneakers are unpleasant, I admit, but they're clean. I put them through the washing machine. And you're fine in my old shorts for the gym, aren't you?"

I sighed.

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