Read Online Kristen by Lisi Harrison - Free Book Online Page A

McDonald’s pickles and had crackly jazz music playing through its garbled speakers had been an all-time low, Kristen was grateful she had a witness. Someone who could verify in a court of law if need be that her mother tended toward the hysterical.
    “My name is Dwight Wolcott, and I found your daughter trespassing at the Westchester Country Club.” He stuck his chubby red nose a little further inside the Pine-Sol–scented foyer. After a quick evaluation of the distressed wood credenza, straw wall-hangings from Pier 1 Imports, and the glistening plastic plants that tried their very hardest to look real, he cleared his phlegm-filled throat and smirked. “And something tells me you’re not members.”
    “Really, Dwight, and you
are
?” Marsha folded her arms across her braless chest.
    Kristen wanted to hug her mother and hide at the same time. She loved how easy it was for Marsha to hold on to her pride and own who she was. But at the same time, she wished it hadn’t been necessary. For once it would have been nice to know that their lifestyle didn’t need defending. And that they could be accepted just the way they were.
    Dwight coughed and quickly checked his walkie-talkie as if it were a direct line to the president. “I better be going. . . .” He jammed it back onto his brown belt, which looked terrible, by the way, with his all-black uniform.
    “Yes.” Marsha put a protective arm around her daughter. “You better.”
    Kristen smirked at Dwight, like a spoiled girl whose parents never punished her. But that was merely a fantasy— a fantasy that would only last until they heard the hallway elevator doors close. As soon as they did, Kristen’s worst fears would be confirmed.
    “Explain.” Marsha tucked a loose hair behind her ear and glared at her daughter.
    Kristen inhaled sharply, hoping something would come to her by the time she exhaled. But it wasn’t necessary.
    “You’re done,” her mother snapped before she could speak. “I thought there wasn’t going to be any more trouble after your expulsion from OCD. I thought your life was going to be school and soccer. Isn’t that what you told me?”
    “I was just—”
    “Trespassing? Lying to your mother? Playing Russian roulette with your free pass to the most prestigious middle school on the East Coast?”
    Kristen lowered her eyes. The parquet floorboards blurred through her tears—tears she cried not so much over her impending punishment but over her inability to do what other kids did and get away with it. It was like she had one of those invisible dog fences around her body, and every time she did something that went against her good-girl nature, she got zapped. Why didn’t the Pretty Committee or Skye or Dune or Ripple have invisible fences around
them
? Why could they break the rules and still come out smiling? Why was Kristen being forced into a lifetime of perfection?
    “You are grounded for the rest of the summer. That means no—”
    A light rap on the door interrupted her. It was probably Dwight, who’d just received word that her red crystal–filled backpack had been discovered in the maintenance shack, the final piece of evidence needed to land her a life sentence. The rest of her education would come from the bloodstained pages of prison library books and CNN on a TV the size of a toaster.
    “Yes, Dwight,” Marsha said with an I-am-more-than-qualified-to-take-it-from-here huff.
    But the opposite of Dwight was standing in their doorway.
    It was Dune.
    Kristen’s stomach lurched. A cute, shirtless boy whose idea of “school” consisted of several fish swimming by his surfboard at the same time could only worsen this horrible situation.
    “Hi, Mrs. Gregory, I’m Dune.”
    Kristen’s mom glowered at him the same way she always eyed the skinny girl who worked at the smoothie shop, silently insisting that they keep squeezing until every last drop of juice was drained from the fruit and in her to-go cup.
    And, like the skinny