Read Online Creeping with the Enemy by Kimberly Reid - Free Book Online Page B

didn’t have to play the rich socialite around me anymore, and I learned we’re more alike than not. She won’t tell me anything about herself that happened before her dad picked six winning numbers, but I do know she’d fit in better on Aurora Avenue than she does in this swanky Cherry Creek neighborhood.
    There isn’t really much to go on. The room doesn’t have that lived in, been here forever feel to it, which makes sense because I don’t think Bethanie has lived here very long despite her efforts to make me think otherwise. Every now and then her accent goes all country grammar. The only personalized space in the room is a big corkboard hanging on the wall over her desk. There are photos of Bethanie and her parents, with her ranging in age from maybe six or seven to now. They must be vacation pictures because they’re all shot outside and in various locales: palm trees and ocean; mountains and snow; cactus and desert. These are the only photos—no pictures of other family members or of Bethanie’s friends.
    For Bethanie to be so romance-crazy that she keeps reading Romeo and Juliet over and over, I’m surprised there isn’t a single photo of a boyfriend or crush. I don’t have much experience in that department, but I imagined Bethanie was something like Michelle, who is such a romantic she thinks all those men going in and out of Ada Crawford’s house are boyfriends. Michelle has all kinds of boy-related stuff in her room: movie stubs from dates, photos of boys she dated or crushed on, even a couple of love notes written on actual paper. Last month, just so she could meet some Langdon guys, Bethanie tricked me into going to the party where I was set up for that crime I didn’t commit. So what if she didn’t know I was going to be set up. She still conned me in the name of romance, making the lack of boyfriend evidence in her room a little strange.
    Also on the board are school mementos, things like sports team banners, school decals, announcements for dances and fund-raisers, spirit buttons—the usual school stuff. What’s unusual is that the keepsakes are from so many different schools. It seems like a weird thing to collect—mementos from schools you didn’t attend. Bethanie must be really good at something because there are lots of blue ribbons pinned to the board. I have ribbons like this from science fair every year since sixth grade, but nowhere near this many. I unpin a batch of ribbons from the board and look at the back of one, only to find the little card usually attached to this kind of ribbon—the card that says what the contest was, the date it took place, where it was held—has been torn off. I look through all the ribbons and find the card has been torn off all of them.
    I didn’t get the ribbons back up on the board a second too soon because Bethanie comes out of the bathroom, looking like the girl I know, jumps on her bed, and starts sipping the chai, probably cool by now. If this was Tasha’s room, I’d join her on the bed, but Bethanie and I aren’t that tight, so I pull the chair from her desk a little closer and take a seat.
    â€œIsn’t Cole everything I told you he was? A real gentleman despite how rude you were to him.”
    â€œI thought I was there to check him out, and that’s what I did.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œSo ... I think you’re falling too fast. You don’t know enough about him.”
    â€œAnd you do after spending a single dinner with him?”
    â€œThat’s all you’ve spent with him. I was there when you met him, remember? And don’t tell me about all your hours on the phone. It’s almost like texting. Someone can be a whole different person when you aren’t face-to-face. For that matter, people can hide a lot even when you are.”
    â€œYou mean me.”
    â€œI mean Cole.” Well yeah, I meant her.
    Bethanie is quiet for a