Read Online Better than Perfect by Simone Elkeles - Free Book Online Page B

continues. “Besides annoying me.”
    â€œDon’t got one,” I say. “Annoying you has taken up so much of my time since I got here, I
reckon
I don’t have much time for any-thin’ else.”
    I walk out, hoping I’ll forget about that lacy pink bra and the girl who’s wearing it. Lying on my blow-up bed, I open my laptop again. I intend to watch random videos, but instead I search online for the pictures of Ashtyn’s front lawn. It doesn’t take long to find them. They’re on some bogus profile created this morning,someone claiming to be a Fremont student named Booger McGee. Pictures of the tampons and pads strewn on the lawn were uploaded today. Ashtyn is tagged in the picture marked FREMONT’S BITCH.
    One picture is taken from the street to showcase the entire mess. A few others are closer up, showing their artful distribution of the pads and tampons. The pranksters were careful not to out themselves, probably afraid of the consequences of being recognized. Smart, but not that smart. I squint closely at a picture including Ashtyn’s car. There’s a reflection of the front end of another car in her side window. I easily identify the distinctive shape of a Jeep Wrangler with a custom light bar on top. Wranglers can never be mistaken for any other car.
    I tell myself I don’t want to be Ashtyn’s protector. The girl is more than capable of fighting her own battles, and for the ones she’s not capable of fighting . . . well, she’s got a boyfriend and teammates for that. I need to remind myself to stay out of her life even when instinct tells me otherwise.
    Falkor jumps on my lap and paws me. His breath smells like he’s been eating something other than dog food.
    Spending the summer at Regents would’ve been awesome, with parties that would last all night. Now I’m in the suburbs of Chicago living with a stepmother who suddenly wants to make sure I stay out of trouble and a girl with a pink lacy bra who plays football and would like nothing better than for me to fall off the face of the earth.
    Because I have nothing better to do and need an adventure, Idecide to drive to Fairfield to see if I can spot the Jeep. It’s easy to infiltrate enemy territory when nobody recognizes you as the enemy. I wear jeans, boots, and a plaid button-down with my beanie to emphasize that I’m not from around here. When I first met Jack at Regents, he asked me if I lived on a ranch because of the way I talked. I might have talked like a cowboy, but I looked like a California dude who surfs and wears beanies. I’ve lived so many places, I don’t fit into any mold.
    Fairfield is the town next to Fremont. I set my GPS for Fairfield High and find their football field empty. It’s Saturday, but hard-core players practice on weekends. As I cruise the streets on the alert for a Jeep, it doesn’t take long to realize there’s a rich side of town and a not-so-rich side. I turn down one block, then another, where buildings are tagged with gang symbols. The guys hanging out on the street corners look more than ready to sell me drugs.
    I’m about to give up when I spot a red Jeep with a custom light bar parked in front of a sandwich shop called Rick’s Subs. A dude who looks like Ashtyn’s boyfriend, accompanied by some chick, pulls out of a spot and drives off. I take it. Once inside, I sit at the end of the long counter and pretend to look at the chalkboard menu above. This is obviously the Fairfield High hangout of choice.
    A bunch of guys who look about my age are in a booth, laughing and acting like they’re the shit.
    â€œBonk, upload another close-up,” one of the guys says a bit too loudly. Bonk has a shaved head and piercings in his ears and eyebrows. He tells the guys to keep it down and looks around to make sure nobody is eavesdropping.
    â€œWhat’ll ya have?” the waitress asks.
    I glance at the menu