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Stephanie Perkins
Anna and the french kiss
© 2010 by Stephanie Perkins
© Vasilyeva Yu. V., translation into Russian, 2016
© Publication in Russian, translation into Russian, design. LLC Group of Companies "RIPOL classic", 2016
Jarrod, best friend and lover
Chapter first
All I know about France is madeleines, Amelie and Moulin Rouge. Also the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, although I have no idea why they are really needed. Napoleon, Marie Antoinette and a bunch of kings named Louis. I don't remember what they are famous for, but I think it has something to do with the French Revolution and Bastille Day. An art museum called the Louvre and its famous glass pyramid, the home of the Mona Lisa and statues with severed hands. More cafes on every corner and bistros...or whatever they call them. And mimes. Good food (seemingly), everyone smokes and drinks a lot of wine.
I heard that the French don't like Americans and white sneakers.
A few months ago, my father placed me in a boarding school. The crunch of his crossed fingers must have been heard even on the other end of the phone as he flooded in about "a great learning experience" and "wonderful memories that I will cherish for a lifetime." Well, yes. Wonderful memories. That one sentence pissed me off.
After this statement, I tried screaming, begging and crying, but nothing worked. And now I have in my hands a brand new student visa and a foreign passport, which says: Anna Oliphant, a citizen of the United States of America. And here I am, with my parents, unpacking in a room smaller than my suitcase - a freshly minted student at the American School in Paris.
It's not that I'm ungrateful. That is, it is still Paris. City of Light! The most romantic city in the world! How can you resist this. It's just that the idea of a boarding house abroad was more his than mine. Ever since my father started selling idiotic books that were later made into equally idiotic films, he had tried his best to impress his New York friends as a cultured, intelligent man.
My father is not an intellectual. But he is rich.
It wasn't always like that. When my parents first got married, our family was at the very bottom of the middle class. Parents were on the verge of divorce, and all ambitions had to be thrown aside. The dream of becoming the next great writer from the South was transformed into a burning desire to be the next published author. And so, having settled in one of the small towns of Georgia, my father began to write short stories about ordinary people with unshakable American values, who fall in love completely and irrevocably, get into dangerous situations and surely die in the end.
I'm serious.
It drives me into black depression, but aunts swallow such reading with pleasure. They like my father's books, they like his ribbed sweaters, his white-toothed smile, and his light tan. Thanks to them, he became a best-selling author ... and a complete idiot. Films have been made based on two of his books, and three more are being filmed now. This is his main source of income.
Hollywood. Perhaps it was the huge money and ghostly fame that led my father to the idea that I should live in France. whole year. One. I don't know why he didn't see fit to send me to Australia, or Ireland, or somewhere else where English is their mother tongue. In French, I know only one word - “oui”, and only recently I learned that it is pronounced like “oui”, and not “vi” at all. At least my school speaks English. It was opened specifically for wealthy Americans who are bored with their own children. In fact, that's the way it is. Who else sends children to a boarding school? Kind of like Hogwarts. Only in our boarding school they don’t teach you how to fly on a broomstick, there are no cute wizard boys and magic sweets. Instead, I have to huddle with the other ninety-nine students. There are only twenty-five people in the class instead of six hundred who studied with me in the same parallel in Atlanta. But I study the same subjects as in high school Clairmont, not counting the French, of course.
Oh yes! French. There is no question of a free choice of subjects. It just shakes me.
Mom says I need to beat the hell out of me, but she's not the one who dumps her wonderful friend Bridge. And a great job at the multiplex at 14 Royal Midtown. And a cool guy from that multiplex.
I still can't believe my mom separated Sean and me - my brother is only seven and too young to sit at home unsupervised after school. Either he gets kidnapped without me by a creepy guy down the street with dirty Coca-Cola towels on his windows, or he accidentally eats something with red dye 40 , he gets angioedema, and there is no one around who I could take him to the hospital. Sean might even die. And I bet they won't let me fly to his funeral, and I won't get to the cemetery until next year. One. By that time, my father would probably have erected some terrible granite monument on the grave.
I hope he's not waiting for me to sit and fill out a college application somewhere in Romania or Russia. My dream is to study directing in California. I want to be America's first female film critic. Someday I'll be invited to every festival, I'll have my own newspaper column, a great TV show, and an incredibly popular website. By the way, I already have a website, but it is not very popular. Bye.
I just need a little time, that's all.
Anna, it's time.
- What? I tear myself away from my shirts, which are folded into neat squares, and look up.
Mom stares at me, nervously fiddling with the turtle pendant. Father, in a peach polo shirt and white canvas shoes, stared out the window. It's late, but the woman across the street is singing something from the opera.
It's time for the parents to return to the hotel. They both get up early in the morning.
- O! My fingers dig hard into one of the shirts.
Father moves away from the window, and I notice with surprise that his eyes are on wet place. At the thought that the father - if he, of course, at all my father- about to burst into tears, my throat intercepts.
- Well, baby. I guess you're quite big now.
I was shackled with cold. My father awkwardly hugs me.
I get uncomfortable.
- Do not let yourself be offended. Study hard and be sure to make friends. Be on the lookout, don't forget about pickpockets, he adds. “Sometimes they work in pairs.
I nod, leaning against his shoulder, and he lets me go. And then he leaves.
Mother stops for a moment.
“A wonderful year awaits you,” she says. - I'm sure.
I bite my lip to keep from crying and my mom hugs me. I try to breathe deeply. Inhale. We count to three. Exhalation. Mom smells like grapefruit lotion.
“I'll call when I get home,” she adds.
House. Atlanta is no longer my home.
- I love you, Anna.
I can't hold back my sobs anymore.
- I love you too. Look after Shonny for me.
- Well, of course.
“And Captain Jack,” I say. “Make sure that Sean feeds him, changes his bedding and water in the drinker. And so as not to feed him too often, otherwise he will get fat and will not be able to get out of the house. Let him give him food every three days, because he needs vitamin C, and he does not drink the water in which I add vitamins ...
Mom pulls back and tucks a loose strand behind my ear.
“I love you,” she repeats again.
Jarrod
best friend and true love
I know very little about France: Madeleine, Amelie and Moulin Rouge. The Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, although I have no idea what they are for. Napoleon, Marie Antoinette and many Louises. I don't know exactly what they did, but it seems to have something to do with the French Revolution, which has something to do with Bastille Day. The art museum here is called the Louvre; it is in the form of a pyramid, inside are the "Mona Lisa" and a statue of a woman with broken off hands. And in France, there are cafes and bistros on every corner, or whatever they call them. And pantomimes. Local food is found to be just great, people drink a lot of wine and smoke a lot.
I heard the French don't like Americans, and they also don't like white sneakers.
A few months ago, my father enrolled me in a boarding school. He could even be heard over the phone line making air quotes announcing that living abroad would be "a good learning experience" and "a keepsake that I will cherish for the rest of my life." Yes. A keepsake. And if it wasn't for the shock, I would have told daddy how wrong he was with his choice of word.
After my father's statement, I tried to scream, beg, beg and cry, but nothing convinced him. And now I have a new student visa and a passport with the inscription: Anna Oliphant, a citizen of the United States of America. And here I am unpacking with my parents in a room smaller than my own suitcase. Now I'm new at the Paris School for Americans.
It's not that I don't know gratitude. Guys, this is Paris. City of Light! The most romantic city in the world! Of course I like it here. It's just that my father sends me to an international boarding school more for his own sake. Ever since he liquidated his company and started writing crappy books that have been made into even crappier movies, he's been trying to impress his cool New York friends with his sophistication and opulence.
My father is not refined, but he is rich.
Although this was not always the case. When my parents were still living together, we belonged to the lower middle class. It was during the divorce that all traces of decency disappeared, and my father's dream of becoming the next great writer of the South turned into a desire to become the next published writer. So he started writing novels set in a small town called Georgia, where the characters had proper American values, fell in love with unconsciousness, and then fell ill with life-threatening diseases and died.
I am not kidding.
Two of his novels have been filmed, three more are in the process of filming - Hollywood turned out to be a real gold mine. And be that as it may, the additional loot and pseudo-prestige deformed daddy's brain so that he decided: I should live in France. Year. One. I don't understand why they can't send me to Australia or Ireland or somewhere else where English is their native language. I only know one thing in French, “oui,” which means “yes,” and I was recently enlightened that the word should be pronounced as “in-and”, and not “in-y-and”.
At least they speak English at school. It was founded for pretentious Americans who hate the company of their own children. I'm serious. Who will send their child to boarding school? Just like Hogwarts. Only without cute wizards, magical candy and broomstick flying.
Now I'm stuck here with ninety-nine other students. There are only twenty-five students in the senior class, compared to six hundred in Atlanta. And I study the same subjects as in Claremont, well, apart from the basics of French.
Oh yeah. Basics French. Of course, with ninth graders. Get hurt.
Mom says that I should swallow the bitter pill without delay, but it's not her who is breaking up with her beautiful best friend Bridget. And with a great job at the 14 Royal Midtown multiplex. And with Toph, a great guy from the 14 Royal Midtown multiplex.
And I still can't believe she's separating me from my seven-year-old brother Sean, who is too small to be left unsupervised. Most likely, without me, he will be kidnapped by that creepy guy down the street (he still has dirty Coca-Cola towels hanging on the windows). Or Shawnny accidentally eats something containing red dye #40, his throat swells up, and there is no one around to take his brother to the hospital. He may even die. And I give a tooth, my parents will not allow me to fly to the funeral, and next year I will have to drag myself to the cemetery. I'm sure dad will choose a terrible granite cherub for his grave.
I just hope my father doesn't expect me to enter a Russian or Romanian university. My dream is to study film theory in California. I want to be America's greatest female film critic. Someday I'll have invitations to all the festivals, a headline in the newspaper, a great TV show, and a damn popular website. So far, I only have a website, and that is not a very popular one. For now.
I just need a little more time to work on it, that's all.
Anna, it's time.
I digress from folding shirts into perfect rectangles.
Mom looks at me and twirls the turtle amulet around her neck. My father, in a beautifully matched peach polo shirt and white soft leather shoes, admires the view from the window. It's getting dark, but a women's operetta is playing across the street.
Parents must return to the hotel. Both leave on the morning flight.
My fingers dig a little harder into the shirt.
Dad moves away from the window, and I realize with alarm that there are tears in his eyes. I see that my father - whatever he may be - is about to burst into tears, and a traitorous lump rolls up in my throat.
Well baby. Now you are quite an adult.
My body was definitely paralyzed, my limbs were numb. Dad gives me a bear hug. I'm scared, he hugs me so tight.
Take care. Study hard and make friends. And don't get caught by pickpockets. Sometimes they work in pairs.
I nod at his shoulder. Dad releases me and leaves.
Mom is late for a while.
You will spend a wonderful year here,” she says. - I feel it in my heart.
I bite my lip to keep it from trembling. Mom hugs me. I'm trying to breathe. Inhale. On the count of three. Exhalation. Mom's skin smells like grapefruit body lotion.
I'll call you as soon as I get home.
Home. Atlanta is no longer my home.
I love you Anna.
I love you too. Take care of Shonny for me.
Of course.
And Captain Jack. Make sure Sean feeds him, changes his bedding and doesn't forget to pour water. And do not give him too many treats, otherwise Jack will get fat and will not be able to crawl out of the igloo. But make sure he still gives them every day, because he needs vitamin C, and he did not touch the water when I used those drops ...
She steps back and tucks my bleached lock behind my ear.
I love you, she repeats.
And then my mom does something that even after all the paperwork and air tickets and performances, I never thought I'd see. Something that was supposed to happen at least a year later, with college admission. Yes, I have been striving for independence for many days, months and even years, but when it is granted to me, I am not ready.
My mother is leaving. I stay alone.
1. There is a stereotype that the French hate it when they walk in the streets in sneakers.
I can feel it rolling in but I can't help it.
They abandoned me. My parents really abandoned me! IN FRANCE!
Meanwhile, Paris is oddly quiet. Even Opera singer left for the night. I can't unstick. Here the walls are paper thin, so if I break, my neighbors - my new classmates - will hear everything. I feel bad. I'm about to vomit that strange tapenade with eggplant eaten for lunch, everyone will hear everything, and no one will invite me to watch how pantomimes get out of their invisible boxes or what else they do here in their free time.
Seventeen-year-old Anna Oliphant is absolutely happy with her life in Atlanta, where she has friends, good job and a pretty colleague who seems to have a crush on her. Therefore, she is horrified when she learns that her parents sent her to study in France. She doesn't even speak French!
Read Anna and the French Kiss online
About the book
“Anna and the French Kiss” is a typical teen romance about a girl who is sent to study in Paris without her consent and is very upset by it (pliiiiiiz, send me there, I will be happy). And there she falls in love with a handsome guy with an English accent and a chic hairstyle, but, according to the law of the genre, he has a girlfriend.
After reading the description, you thought, oh my God, what a banal thing, not even worth attention. Initially, I thought so, but it turned out not so bad. Yes, the plot is worn out to holes and the characters, to be honest, I didn’t really like, although in some places I just: “Keep it up, baby.” But the book is quite interesting and in some places even informative. Not in terms of a love line, it is terribly banal there, but in terms of stories about Paris, history, stereotypes of French life. It was as if I had visited this beautiful city myself, and this is what I liked the most.
Bottom line: I don't like to read such novels, because they are always damn awkward, and I have enough awkwardness in my life. But once you can, and, oddly enough, I liked this book. I don't regret reading it one bit, but I don't think I'll re-read it. If you want romance, Paris and cuteness, then this book is for you)
Stephanie Perkins
Anna and French Kiss
Translation that you can say:
Correction: so-chan
Proofreading: Aleftina
Cover:solitary angel
The book was downloaded from the WorldSelena website: www.worldselena.ru
annotation
Anna is looking forward to last year studying in Atlanta, where she has a great job, a loyal best friend and a romantic relationship that promises to grow into something more. However, her father transfers her to a boarding school in Paris. Life in a new place seems like hell to Anna: she is not used to independence, she does not know French well and has difficulty meeting new people. However, everything changes when she meets Etienne St. Clair, the guy of her dreams. The only problem is that he's not free, and Anna apparently isn't either, in terms of her almost serious relationship in Atlanta.
Will Anna dare to come out of her shell and fight for her love? Will a year in Paris be an unforgettable adventure?
Chapter 1
I know very little about France: Madeleine, Amelie and Moulin Rouge. The Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, although I have no idea what they are for. Napoleon, Marie Antoinette and many Louises. I don't know exactly what they did, but it seems to have something to do with the French Revolution, which has something to do with Bastille Day. The art museum here is called the Louvre; it is in the form of a pyramid, inside are the Mona Lisa » and a statue of a woman with broken hands. And in France, there are cafes and bistros on every corner, or whatever they call them. And pantomime. Local food is found to be just great, people drink a lot of wine and smoke a lot.
I heard the French don't like Americans, and they don't like white sneakers either.
A few months ago, my father enrolled me in a boarding school. He could even be heard over the phone line making air quotes announcing that living abroad would be "a good learning experience" and "a keepsake that I will cherish for the rest of my life." Yes. A keepsake. And if it wasn't for the shock, I would have told daddy how wrong he was with his choice of word.
After my father's statement, I screamed, begged, begged and cried, but nothing convinced him. And now I have a new student visa and a passport with the inscription: "Anna Oliphant, citizen of the United States of America." And here I am unpacking with my parents in a room smaller than my own suitcase. Now I'm new at the Paris School for Americans.
It's not that I don't know gratitude. Guys, this Paris. City of Light! The most romantic city in the world! Of course I like it here. It's just that my father sends me to an international boarding school more for his own sake. Ever since he liquidated his company and started writing crappy books that have been made into even crappier movies, he's been trying to impress his cool New York friends with his sophistication and wealth.
My father is not refined, but he is rich.
Although this was not always the case. When my parents were still living together, we belonged to the bottom of the middle class. It was during the divorce that all traces of decency disappeared, and my father's dream of becoming the next great writer of the South turned into a desire to become the next published writer. So he started writing novels set in a small town called Georgia, where the characters had proper American values, fell in love with unconsciousness, and then fell ill with life-threatening diseases and died.
I am not kidding.
Two of his novels have been filmed, three more are in the process of filming - Hollywood turned out to be a real gold mine. And be that as it may, the additional loot and pseudo-prestige deformed daddy's brain so that he decided: I should live in France. Year. One. I don't understand why they can't send me to Australia or Ireland or somewhere where English is their native language. I only know one thing in French, “oui,” which means “yes,” and I was recently enlightened that the word should be pronounced as “in-and”, and not “in-y-and”.
At least they speak English at school. It was founded for pretentious Americans who hate the company of their own children. I'm serious. Who will send their child to boarding school? Just like Hogwarts. Only without cute wizards, magical candy and broomstick flying.
Now I'm stuck here with ninety-nine other students. In the graduating class Total twenty-five people compared to six hundred in Atlanta. And I study the same subjects as in Claremont, well, apart from the basics of French.
Oh yeah. Fundamentals of the French language. Of course, with ninth graders. Get hurt.
Mom says that I should swallow the bitter pill without delay, but it's not her who is breaking up with her beautiful best friend Bridget. And with a great job at the 14 Royal Midtown multiplex. And with Toph, a great guy from the 14 Royal Midtown multiplex.
And I still can't believe she's separating me from my seven-year-old brother Sean, who is too small to be left unattended. Most likely, without me, he will be kidnapped by that creepy guy down the street (he still has dirty Coca-Cola towels hanging on the windows). Or Shawnny accidentally eats something containing red dye #40, his throat swells up, and there is no one around to take his brother to the hospital. He may even die. And I give a tooth, my parents will not allow me to fly to the funeral, and next year I will have to drag myself to the cemetery. I'm sure dad will choose a terrible granite cherub for his grave.
I just hope my father doesn't expect me to enter a Russian or Romanian university. My dream is to study film theory in California. I want to be America's greatest female film critic. Someday I'll have invitations to all the festivals, a headline in the newspaper, a great TV show, and a damn popular website. So far, I only have a website, and that is not a very popular one. For now.
I just need a little more time to work on it, that's all.
Anna, it's time.
I digress from folding shirts into perfect rectangles.
Mom looks at me and twirls the turtle amulet around her neck. My father, in a beautifully matched peach polo shirt and white soft leather shoes, admires the view from the window. It's getting dark, but a women's operetta is playing across the street.
Parents must return to the hotel. Both leave on the morning flight.
My fingers dig a little harder into the shirt.
Dad moves away from the window, and I realize with alarm that there are tears in his eyes. I see that my father - whatever he may be - is about to burst into tears, and a traitorous lump rolls up in my throat.
Well baby. Now you are quite an adult.
My body was definitely paralyzed, my limbs were numb. Dad gives me a bear hug. I'm scared, he hugs me so tight.
Take care. Study hard and make friends. And don't get caught by pickpockets. Sometimes they work in pairs.
I nod at his shoulder. Dad releases me and leaves.
Mom is late for a while.
You will spend a wonderful year here,” she says. - I feel it in my heart.
I bite my lip to keep it from trembling. Mom hugs me. I'm trying to breathe. Inhale. On the count of three. Exhalation. Mom's skin smells like grapefruit body lotion.
Rated the book
Pleasant and gentle. I wanted the book to never end, and I tried my best to stretch it out because the pleasure that I got from reading it was simply indescribable. It is very rare to come across such wonderful books. The very ones after reading, which you want to smile, rejoice and admire. Long, long time to admire.
The plot is simple and not new, a simple American girl, at the behest of her father, is sent to Paris, go to some elite school. Instead of rejoicing and dancing in place, she roars and wants to return home to her friend and the boyfriend of her dreams with whom everything has just begun to get better. But then, as is usually the case in fairy tales, a beautiful friend, an attractive guy, cinemas appear and she finally discovers Paris for herself and everything becomes as good as it could be.
Anna. A pleasant girl, at first very indecisive, always crying, and then bold and in love. Her feelings for the guy from America were a little incomprehensible. She was so obsessed with him that she did not even see a person who really cares about her, who is trying to please her, to please her despite her actions, and the difficult family situation. I liked the fact that the author decided to develop the main character, and in addition to her love for the guys, endowed her with other hobbies. Personally, it was very interesting for me to read about her hobbies for films and books, thanks to these little things I saw her bright nature in her.
Etienne. You can admire this young man as much as you like. He is cute, cuddly and funny. Him no delusions of grandeur about his attractiveness, he communicates with everyone, does not divide people into any social strata, and simply enjoys what he has. But he was so accustomed to everyday life that meeting Anna was something dangerous for him, he was very afraid of the changes that should have happened anyway. And it's better now than next time. On the one hand it is understandable that if he loses Ellie or his mother, part of his life can also be destroyed, but on the other hand, if he lets go of one of them, he can get something better. But it's not up to us to decide what to do. For me, Etienne became a man who can do anything, he was able to overcome so much pain that a monument can be erected to him for this. He is a real hero!
The book is atmospheric and romantic. Yes, it's understandable Paris! City of love! After reading the book, I had a great desire to settle France, to see Notre Dame, take a walk along the cozy streets and go to the cinema, to some melodrama.
Rated the book
The most ordinary American schoolgirl Anna, who lives in the city of Atlanta, has just begun to improve her personal life before graduation. The guy of her dreams drew attention to Anna, she had friends, a fun job, a beloved younger brother and a dream of becoming a great film critic.
But, suddenly, the parents decide to send their child for graduation year to a prestigious foreign school. In Paris. Without even asking if she wants to go there.
But you have to go.
You also have to look for new friends, get used to an unusual world and, at the very least, learn a foreign language.
But after a while, friends are found, and life in another country turns out to be not as terrible as it seemed at first. And after Anna begins to communicate with the charming French-Anglo-American Etienne St. Clair, life away from home becomes more and more interesting. But what about the beautiful Etienne's girlfriend? Yes, and Anna practically had a boyfriend in the States ...
In general, after reading an insane amount of rave reviews for the book, I had certain expectations. And these expectations were not justified.
No, I didn’t expect a masterpiece, but in my heart I hoped for something in the spirit A Match Made in High School. Alas and ah. With all the attempts of the author, so to speak, to delve into complicated relationship everyone with everyone, the plot turned out to be rather predictable cranberries, and even served often with a too serious face.
Aesthetic teenagers aroused my sympathy with great creaking, their sufferings touched only a little, and there were only enough comedic moments to completely not get bored and not give up the book.
No, lovers of romantic non-paranormal (and maybe paranormal too) stories will like everything here - unrequited love, indefinite relationship, main character, similar in character to Jace, but in some places prone to rag behavior, walks around Paris and much more.
But personally, this story could not entertain me, and the problems there are not raised to sympathize with them with all my heart.
books_are_my_life
Rated the book
I love you so much, as they love only the mysterious darkness between the shadow and the soul. Pablo Neruda.
Probably, this book came across to me at the right time, believing it came. Except for this, than to explain my temporary insanity with this book, I'm not seventeen years old anymore. After the gripping but terrifying world of James Dashner, this book was like a breath of fresh air. Sweet, light, warm. I read half of it in one evening, and as soon as I tear myself away from the book I could not fall asleep, well, still, there was Anna, there was Etienne, but there was no kiss!
The plot is not very new., a simple American girl, against her will, is sent to Paris. Well, there, to study, to improve the language, to learn new things. Instead of squealing with happiness, she cries and wants to go home to her best friend and a guy with whom something just started to stick together. But, as is usually the case, there is something that makes her life in an unfamiliar country incomparably better. A friendly neighbor, a damn cool guy, new friends, cinemas, beautiful buildings and all of Paris. I read to the point that I myself wanted to go to France))).
Anna. At first, indecisive and timid, then enthusiastic and courageous, in love, crying, irritated... alive. I liked her despite her whining about loving someone she shouldn't love. It's terrible that she was stupid for so long and did not see that the guy was crazy about her! It was obvious to me, and to some other characters too. And also I liked the fact that she had other hobbies besides her love for a guy. Her obsession films, akin to my obsession books I saw a kindred spirit in her. And her collection of elephants. The way she loved her little brother. For me, she ceased to be a character, but became a friend who was so lacking).
Etienne.A nice guy. Very cute. He gets away with everything, and I'll tell you why: he doesn't put himself above others and doesn't use his attractiveness as typical characters in American books would use it. He communicates with everyone, whether they are the most popular guys in school or the freaks that no one pays attention to. Of course, his situation with Anna is very neglected and stupid, like he loves her, but is afraid of change. After the situation with his mother, he tightly clung to his Ellie, realizing that nothing would come of it anyway. He is very indecisive. On the one hand, I understand him, when something threatens to leave your life, something without which you cannot imagine this life, then you are desperately striving to preserve at least a part of what was before. But, as they say, you can’t command the heart. For me, he became a real hero when he climbed Notre Dame, when he was able to rebuff his father, when he was able to let go of the past.
I enjoyed reading about how Anna realized with horror that she was falling in love with best friend. I liked their friendship, jokes, walks, intimate conversations, but still I'm glad that they were able to overcome all the obstacles and stayed together.
I will become a victim of my own love, I will die from boiling in the blood, because I love you incurably. Pablo Neruda.
