Snowbound - Harlequin.com

Snowbound - Harlequin.com Snowbound - Harlequin.com

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CHAPTER EIGHT FIONA NOTICED that John sat at the opposite end of the table from the boys at dinner and ate quickly, his head down. Trying to pretend to herself that she wasn’t conscious of him every single second, she was left to referee the far-ranging discussion and squabbles. Dieter admitted to liking—appropriately enough— a musical group called Snow Patrol. “You like alternative?” Troy sneered. “What, do you listen to Modest Mouse, too?” Dieter was unperturbed. “Yeah, and they’re brilliant.” This called for taking a poll of musical tastes, always a delicate matter as it exposed rifts in their world views. Eminem and Hilary Duff might both top the charts but did not otherwise pull up their chairs to the same table. Only Willow’s youth saved her from being savaged by her admission that Hilary Duff and Aly and AJ were her favorite artists. “Oh, and Ashlee Simpson,” she added. Troy opened his mouth. Fiona interjected, “To each his own. I like Ben Folds.” “Yay, teach!” Dieter cheered. “He’s awesome.” Troy turned his incredulous stare from the more

JANICE KAY JOHNSON 135 vulnerable Willow to someone who could stand his own ground. “What, are you like some twenty-three-year-old computer geek?” “No, then I’d like techno, and I don’t.” Fiona let them bicker, so long as they left Willow out of it. She stole a surreptitious look down at the table. What kind of music did John like? What kind of movies? Books? Was he fan of any professional sports? Given how much she did know about him, it was startling to realize how much she didn’t. She wished she’d known him before he went to war. Had he smiled easily? Laughed? Or had he always been closemouthed, perhaps even a loner? Why, she wondered, were some people more traumatized by war than others? Was it what they’d experienced? What they’d seen or—worse yet—what they’d had to do? Or did personality predetermine who would suffer from PTSD? Now that he’d made her curious, she would have to find a book on the subject once she got home. “Dieter, Amy and Erin, you’re the cleanup crew tonight,” she said, picking the names almost at random— except that she always tried to team Amy up with kids who’d keep her on task. She’d enjoyed teaching at Willamette Prep in part because she didn’t have to use the well-motivated pupils to propel the rest forward. In a school where students were accepted on academic merit, the kids were pretty uniformly motivated and college-bound. Amy, however,

CHAPTER EIGHT<br />

FIONA NOTICED that John sat at the opposite end of the<br />

table from the boys at dinner and ate quickly, his head<br />

down. Trying to pretend to herself that she wasn’t conscious<br />

of him every single second, she was left to<br />

referee the far-ranging discussion and squabbles.<br />

Dieter admitted to liking—appropriately enough—<br />

a musical group called Snow Patrol.<br />

“You like alternative?” Troy sneered. “What, do you<br />

listen to Modest Mouse, too?”<br />

Dieter was unperturbed. “Yeah, and they’re brilliant.”<br />

This called for taking a poll of musical tastes, always<br />

a delicate matter as it exposed rifts in their world views.<br />

Eminem and Hilary Duff might both top the charts but<br />

did not otherwise pull up their chairs to the same table.<br />

Only Willow’s youth saved her from being savaged by<br />

her admission that Hilary Duff and Aly and AJ were her<br />

favorite artists.<br />

“Oh, and Ashlee Simpson,” she added.<br />

Troy opened his mouth.<br />

Fiona interjected, “To each his own. I like Ben Folds.”<br />

“Yay, teach!” Dieter cheered. “He’s awesome.”<br />

Troy turned his incredulous stare from the more

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