Read Online Boy Swap by Kristina Springer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kristina Springer
Tags: Romance, YA), eBooks, ChickLit, Young Adult, teen, love, Romantic, Comedy, boyfriend, books, boy, Boys, fake, paparazzi, juvenile, My, Swap, BoySwap, Espressologist, Springer, Project, Kristina
Ads: Link
try.
That’s a good start for now. I can take care of most of this list at the mall tomorrow. What’s next?
STEP 2: RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT
1) Research Carter Jones.
a) Google him
b) Check Facebook
c) Search through yearbooks
d) Casually gather info from Rayne (blech!) in band. Her older brother is a wrestler (I think?)
2) Develop plan to get Carter to date me.
Shoot. That last one is going to be tough. And I have to get to the game. I’ll have to work on this later.
* * *
This week’s half-time show has a 70s theme so we are marching to a medley of songs like “Disco Inferno” and “I Will Survive”. The stadium has its usual field lights on but for this show there are additional strobe lights panning across the field. The band is still sporting the usual orange and black polyester ensemble but the flag twirlers are all in big bell bottoms and wide-collared shirts and the dance squad still managed to find a way to show off their bodies with spandexed tops, micro-minis, and platform boots. I guess I should give them credit; no matter how cold it gets during these performances, they are dedicated to showing as much skin as they can bear.
We are in the middle of “YMCA” and moving into formation to spell the actual letters, Y-M-C-A, on the field. I’m the right-bottom corner of the “A” and Cassie is about fifteen feet in front of me. She and the other girls are contorting their bodies into the different letters of the song as well. Cassie has her left arm punched in the air and her right arm holding her right leg up so that she looks like the letter “Y”. For just a brief moment I want to run to the sideline where the pile of disco ball props are stored and bowl one right into Cassie’s left leg. But I don’t. That would probably be too obvious. It’s nice to think about, though.
The medley ends and we march off the field in a single-file line. I climb the ten rows up to my seat in the flute section and unstrap my giant black hat. I place it in my lap and concentrate on the big white fluffy plume, pretending the feathers need combing. I’m NOT going to the percussion section at the bottom of the stands to meet Chris, that’s for sure. No way. We can still be boyfriend and girlfriend, or whatever, but I’m not extending myself. The other flutists leave to get drinks or go to the bathroom and I’m left by myself, still working on the plume.
Chris comes bounding up the metal steps and a moment later is standing in front of me. “Ready for our hot chocolates?”
Is he kidding ? Like I’m supposed to just merrily skip off to the concession stand and get hot chocolates like everything is normal when he has a date with Cassie in an hour? Puh-lease.
Well…technically I am. Since we are still “together” and all. Ugh! This BSC stuff is so hard! Fine. I’ll get a hot chocolate. But I’m NOT going to like it. And he can forget about the extra whipped cream. I’m not indulging in any extra calories. Especially not when I’m trying to get a date with Carter Jones.
“Sure,” I say. “Let’s go.”
Chris takes my hand and I let him lead me down the bleachers and toward the concession stand. As we are about to get in the back of the line, we almost run smack into Cassie and Carter carrying their own hot chocolates. Well, isn’t this interesting? I’ve never seen Carter at a game before but he must have suddenly felt compelled to attend one. Gee, I wonder why? Chris and Cassie both look completely shocked and even pale a bit at this near collision. No one says anything. Carter looks back and forth between Chris and Cassie with a puzzled expression.
Oh for God’s sake, does no one have better recovery skills than this? I mean really .
“Hi, Cassie,” I say, with a bit of annoyance in my tone. I turn to Carter and sweetly say, “Hi, Carter.” I bat my eyelashes at him. It’s never too early to begin flirting—though I do wish I was sans band uniform.
Carter blinks
That’s a good start for now. I can take care of most of this list at the mall tomorrow. What’s next?
STEP 2: RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT
1) Research Carter Jones.
a) Google him
b) Check Facebook
c) Search through yearbooks
d) Casually gather info from Rayne (blech!) in band. Her older brother is a wrestler (I think?)
2) Develop plan to get Carter to date me.
Shoot. That last one is going to be tough. And I have to get to the game. I’ll have to work on this later.
* * *
This week’s half-time show has a 70s theme so we are marching to a medley of songs like “Disco Inferno” and “I Will Survive”. The stadium has its usual field lights on but for this show there are additional strobe lights panning across the field. The band is still sporting the usual orange and black polyester ensemble but the flag twirlers are all in big bell bottoms and wide-collared shirts and the dance squad still managed to find a way to show off their bodies with spandexed tops, micro-minis, and platform boots. I guess I should give them credit; no matter how cold it gets during these performances, they are dedicated to showing as much skin as they can bear.
We are in the middle of “YMCA” and moving into formation to spell the actual letters, Y-M-C-A, on the field. I’m the right-bottom corner of the “A” and Cassie is about fifteen feet in front of me. She and the other girls are contorting their bodies into the different letters of the song as well. Cassie has her left arm punched in the air and her right arm holding her right leg up so that she looks like the letter “Y”. For just a brief moment I want to run to the sideline where the pile of disco ball props are stored and bowl one right into Cassie’s left leg. But I don’t. That would probably be too obvious. It’s nice to think about, though.
The medley ends and we march off the field in a single-file line. I climb the ten rows up to my seat in the flute section and unstrap my giant black hat. I place it in my lap and concentrate on the big white fluffy plume, pretending the feathers need combing. I’m NOT going to the percussion section at the bottom of the stands to meet Chris, that’s for sure. No way. We can still be boyfriend and girlfriend, or whatever, but I’m not extending myself. The other flutists leave to get drinks or go to the bathroom and I’m left by myself, still working on the plume.
Chris comes bounding up the metal steps and a moment later is standing in front of me. “Ready for our hot chocolates?”
Is he kidding ? Like I’m supposed to just merrily skip off to the concession stand and get hot chocolates like everything is normal when he has a date with Cassie in an hour? Puh-lease.
Well…technically I am. Since we are still “together” and all. Ugh! This BSC stuff is so hard! Fine. I’ll get a hot chocolate. But I’m NOT going to like it. And he can forget about the extra whipped cream. I’m not indulging in any extra calories. Especially not when I’m trying to get a date with Carter Jones.
“Sure,” I say. “Let’s go.”
Chris takes my hand and I let him lead me down the bleachers and toward the concession stand. As we are about to get in the back of the line, we almost run smack into Cassie and Carter carrying their own hot chocolates. Well, isn’t this interesting? I’ve never seen Carter at a game before but he must have suddenly felt compelled to attend one. Gee, I wonder why? Chris and Cassie both look completely shocked and even pale a bit at this near collision. No one says anything. Carter looks back and forth between Chris and Cassie with a puzzled expression.
Oh for God’s sake, does no one have better recovery skills than this? I mean really .
“Hi, Cassie,” I say, with a bit of annoyance in my tone. I turn to Carter and sweetly say, “Hi, Carter.” I bat my eyelashes at him. It’s never too early to begin flirting—though I do wish I was sans band uniform.
Carter blinks
Similar Books
