Read Online Kiss & Sell by Brittany Geragotelis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brittany Geragotelis
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seen before, Phin-ster,” I said in my best flirty voice.
“And suddenly I’m not hungry anymore,” Phin said, clutching his stomach in mock disgust.
I punched him playfully in the arm and pouted a little.
“Omigosh!” McCartney exclaimed suddenly. She crossed the room, laptop in hand, and sat down between the two of us.
She turned to me as she fired up the computer. “You remember when I told Dan this afternoon that I’d read something that proved what a slimy slug he is?” she asked, her eyes growing mischievous.
With everything that had been going on at the time, I guess my brain had glossed over that part of the convo. I shook my head and McCartney continued.
“Well, I was sort of telling the truth—and sort of not,” she said. She typed on a few keys and then swiveled the computer so both of us could read the page. The website was called “HesaJerk.com” and on the main page were a few pictures of guys around our age, as well as little bios on each of them.
“Type Dan’s name in the search box,” McCartney prompted.
I did what she said and then watched as another page popped up with a picture of Dan and his name in bold black letters. I began to read aloud.
“This is Dan Stevenson. He’s a junior at Ronald Henry HS. And he is a dog. Look out for this jerk, girls. He’s been known to take ladies out for the sole purpose of trying to lay his not-so-smooth moves on them, and then spread false rumors about them around school.
To this creep, accepting an invitation to a movie or a bite to eat means that you, in turn, are expected to make it worth his while. And we’re not talking just buying the tub of popcorn and soda at the theater. We’re talking—well, use your imagination.
So, if you’re asked out by this slimeball, I’m warning you—Just. Say. No. Otherwise, before the date’s even begun, you might have agreed to something you never signed up for. Oh, and he also has bad breath.”
I looked up from the screen, my jaw dropping open as I stared in disbelief at my friend.
“You wrote this?” I asked, incredulously. “How did you even find this site?”
“I’m going to plead the fifth to your first question, on account of not wanting to incriminate myself,” McCartney answered slowly. “But if I
were
to have something to do with this, I may have heard about the site from a cousin of mine who had a run-in with a player at
her
school last year.”
“Can you
really
do this?” I asked, feeling a tad bit guilty at the thought of tarnishing someone else’s rep. Even if the victim in question
was
a dirt bag like Dan. “I mean, is this sort of thing legal?”
“Freedom of speech,” she replied, shrugging. “Besides, more than one girl left messages under Dan’s profile. So, it’s not like I’m making it up.”
I scrolled down the page and sure enough, there were at least another half a dozen entries by different girls recounting their negative experiences on dates with Dan. A few of them even said things I would have been embarrassed to read out loud. After reading all the testimonies, I didn’t feel quite so bad about what McCartney had written.
“But, bad breath? I never told you that,” I sputtered, scrolling back up to the top of the page.
“I never said I was a
nice
girl,” McCartney said devilishly. “Besides, no one trashes on my girl.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re a great friend?” I asked, leaning over and giving McCartney a tight hug.
“Yeah, but it never hurts to hear it again,” McCartney answered, laughing.
There was a knock on the door and teddy came in with our snacks. She placed the tray of goodies down on McCartney’s desk where her computer had been a few minutes before, but now lay between us.
Phin jumped up and practically attacked the food. “Thank God, teddy. I think the estrogen in here was beginning to kill off my total manliness,” Phin said, shoving the food into his mouth.
“You were manly before?” McCartney
“And suddenly I’m not hungry anymore,” Phin said, clutching his stomach in mock disgust.
I punched him playfully in the arm and pouted a little.
“Omigosh!” McCartney exclaimed suddenly. She crossed the room, laptop in hand, and sat down between the two of us.
She turned to me as she fired up the computer. “You remember when I told Dan this afternoon that I’d read something that proved what a slimy slug he is?” she asked, her eyes growing mischievous.
With everything that had been going on at the time, I guess my brain had glossed over that part of the convo. I shook my head and McCartney continued.
“Well, I was sort of telling the truth—and sort of not,” she said. She typed on a few keys and then swiveled the computer so both of us could read the page. The website was called “HesaJerk.com” and on the main page were a few pictures of guys around our age, as well as little bios on each of them.
“Type Dan’s name in the search box,” McCartney prompted.
I did what she said and then watched as another page popped up with a picture of Dan and his name in bold black letters. I began to read aloud.
“This is Dan Stevenson. He’s a junior at Ronald Henry HS. And he is a dog. Look out for this jerk, girls. He’s been known to take ladies out for the sole purpose of trying to lay his not-so-smooth moves on them, and then spread false rumors about them around school.
To this creep, accepting an invitation to a movie or a bite to eat means that you, in turn, are expected to make it worth his while. And we’re not talking just buying the tub of popcorn and soda at the theater. We’re talking—well, use your imagination.
So, if you’re asked out by this slimeball, I’m warning you—Just. Say. No. Otherwise, before the date’s even begun, you might have agreed to something you never signed up for. Oh, and he also has bad breath.”
I looked up from the screen, my jaw dropping open as I stared in disbelief at my friend.
“You wrote this?” I asked, incredulously. “How did you even find this site?”
“I’m going to plead the fifth to your first question, on account of not wanting to incriminate myself,” McCartney answered slowly. “But if I
were
to have something to do with this, I may have heard about the site from a cousin of mine who had a run-in with a player at
her
school last year.”
“Can you
really
do this?” I asked, feeling a tad bit guilty at the thought of tarnishing someone else’s rep. Even if the victim in question
was
a dirt bag like Dan. “I mean, is this sort of thing legal?”
“Freedom of speech,” she replied, shrugging. “Besides, more than one girl left messages under Dan’s profile. So, it’s not like I’m making it up.”
I scrolled down the page and sure enough, there were at least another half a dozen entries by different girls recounting their negative experiences on dates with Dan. A few of them even said things I would have been embarrassed to read out loud. After reading all the testimonies, I didn’t feel quite so bad about what McCartney had written.
“But, bad breath? I never told you that,” I sputtered, scrolling back up to the top of the page.
“I never said I was a
nice
girl,” McCartney said devilishly. “Besides, no one trashes on my girl.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re a great friend?” I asked, leaning over and giving McCartney a tight hug.
“Yeah, but it never hurts to hear it again,” McCartney answered, laughing.
There was a knock on the door and teddy came in with our snacks. She placed the tray of goodies down on McCartney’s desk where her computer had been a few minutes before, but now lay between us.
Phin jumped up and practically attacked the food. “Thank God, teddy. I think the estrogen in here was beginning to kill off my total manliness,” Phin said, shoving the food into his mouth.
“You were manly before?” McCartney
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