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Back Any Way the Wind Blows Save as PDF
Chapters (100)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. EPILOGUE
  96. AGATHA
  97. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  98. Also by Rainbow Rowell
  99. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  100. Newsletter Sign-up

“Yeah,” I laugh. “All right.”

I really do.

54

SHEPARD

We’ve spent two days reading about mage marriages. Penelope’s dad sent some books over for us. At first she wasn’t going to let me read them. Then she reminded me that I’ve already crossed my heart and hoped to die if I ever tell any of their magical secrets—“which is a one-way ticket to hell for you, buddy-boy”—and handed me a book.

I’m not going to tell their secrets.

I’m not going to do anything else to mess things up with Penelope.

I know that she’s miserable right now. That she’s fighting with her friends, and all broken up over her breakup … That she’s on the outs with her mom … I know that she’s only putting up with me because I present an interesting problem.

But I am having the time of my life with Penelope Bunce.

And it’s not just because she’s an endless corridor of magical revelations—and not just because she’s excruciatingly cute. I mean … That’s part of it. I am still human. Everything is part of it. Everything is so much fun.

We wake up, I make tea. (I have a feeling that was Simon’s job.) Then we spend the whole day reading out loud to each other from books about magic, and telling each other stories. When Penelope gets excited about something, she’s much more likely to talk about herself. You wouldn’t believe her life—she’s fought werewolves, she’s invented spells. She has a real crystal ball, but she can’t find it. (I would like to help her find it.)

When we get hungry, I run down to the corner to buy dumplings and noodles, or to one of the sandwich shops. (There are so many sandwich shops.) (Penelope is partial to cheese and pickle.)

When she’s excited, I think she forgets that she’s only putting up with me. And I think she forgets what a losing proposition I am. She’ll jump off the couch to write something on the wall—“Aha!”—or lean into my shoulder to show me something ridiculous, laughing and waving around a piece of strawberry licorice—“Get a load of this, Shepard”—and I think maybe she’s having fun, too.

This can’t go on much longer, can it?

Penelope’s filled both walls with notes, and I’ve learned so much about magical weddings, I could probably officiate one. But I don’t think we’re any closer to breaking my engagement.

She’s going to see that we’re not making progress. She’s going to give up eventually. She’s going to send me home.