Read Coda 05 -Paris a to Z for Free Online

looked over at Angelo in confusion. “Youre saying Jareds a wild rose?”
“Im sayin hes your wild rose.”
Matt shook his head. “Angelo,” he said as he handed the book back across the aisle, “as soon as we get to Paris, Im buying you some porn.”
Angelo laughed as he took the book back. “As long as theres no chicks in it this time.”
“Amen to that,” Jared said from the other side of Matt.
I was as surprised as Matt to learn what Angelo was reading. And yet, it didnt surprise me a bit that he would decide to try something, simply because he never had before. “Do you like the poetry?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “Some of it, I guess. I mean, some of it I still dont get. And this guy writes a lot bout God, so I dont like those so much. Theres some bout farmers, and theyre kinda lame. But Im startin to see why people dig it, too, cause sometimes you find ones that say things that maybe you want to say but cant, you know? Like, they say what your hearts thinkin.”
“Like the poem about Matts amazed moments?”
He nodded. “I found our poem, too, Zach.” He was blushing again, and I could see that look in his eyes asking me not to laugh at him. “Wanna see it?”
“Of course.”
He flipped to a page he had dog-eared and handed me the book. It was a poem called “The Country of Marriage.” I tried not to look dismayed at how long it was, and like he was reading my mind, Angelo said, “Not the whole thing. Just the part I marked.” He pointed to the fifth stanza, where he had highlighted the first several lines. “Thats what I would say to you, Zach,” he said quietly. “If I knew how.”
The first few lines made no sense to me—something about funds and being in the dark— but the part in the middle was clear. “„You are the known place to which the unknown is always leading me back,” I read, looking up at him. “She was his north too.”
I could see that he was relieved, both that I hadnt laughed and that I understood. “That parts you,” he said. “This part at the end is me, see? „I possess nothing worthy to give you.” He shrugged. “Theres only me.”
He said it as if it was an insufficient offering. I could not have disagreed more. I put down the book and took his hand, turning it over so I

    could kiss his palm. “Angel,” I told him, “youre all I ever wanted anyway.”
    I F THERE was anything magical about Paris, it sure wasnt evident in the airport. Underneath the warm smell of fresh-baked bread was the unmistakable odor of urine and stale smoke. After the recycled air on the plane, it was a bit overwhelming, and whatever appetite Id had was suddenly gone.
    Cole had a car waiting for us, and Angelo wasnt the only one staring out the window with wide eyes as we made our way to the hotel, which turned out to be located in a wide open plaza that Angelo told me was called the Place Vendôme.
    The hotel lobby was spacious, with dark wood counters and chairs upholstered in deep green velvet. There was marble everywhere, in every shade imaginable—white, green, gold, brown, and gray—including a huge mosaic on the floor. I could tell as soon as we walked through the door that it was probably unbelievably expensive.
    Matt, Jared, and Angelo were still outside dealing with bellboys and our bags. I went to the front desk to check in. It turned out I didnt need to do much but give them my name and pick up my key. “Mr. Davenport is on his way down to greet you,” the girl behind the desk told me. And sure enough, Cole arrived only a moment later.
    He reminded me of Angelo in some ways. He was a bit taller, but with the same slim build. His skin was just a shade or two lighter than Angelos. And just like Ang, his hair seemed to hang in his eyes about half the time; although in his case, it seemed to have been cut that way on purpose. “Hello, Zach,” he said, taking my hand between his and looking up at me. “Weve really never met before, have we?”
    “Not really,