Read Online Kristen by Lisi Harrison - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisi Harrison
Tags: JUV014000
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girl at the shop, Dune eventually got the hint.
“I just wanted to come here and thank your daughter for trying to save my little sister.”
Kristen and Marsha raised their eyebrows.
“She was tutoring Ripple when Ripple snuck out to the country club. Kristen went after her to bring her home before she got in trouble or . . .” He paused for effect, shaking his head grimly. “Or worse. Anyway, my sister got away, but your thoughtful daughter didn’t. And on behalf of my grateful father, who is waiting downstairs in the car, we just want to thank you for raising such a responsible girl.”
Marsha looked at her daughter, silently asking if this was true. Kristen dried her tears on her black sleeve and nodded yes. Next thing she knew, she was being swept into a Bounce fabric softener–scented embrace, smiling into a fold of paisley-covered faux-satin.
Without another word, or even a thank you to Dune, Marsha released Kristen, turned in her Uggs, and shuffled down the parquet hallway toward her bedroom. It was her way of letting Kristen know that she trusted her again. And as for Dune, Marsha owed him nothing. Allowing him five minutes of alone time with her daughter after dark was thanks enough.
“Ehmagawd.”
Kristen mouthed her gratitude. Not only for saving her, but for finally showing her that he was really, truly crushing back—a gesture far more romantic than diamonds or taking a private jet to Paris for dinner. She made a mental note to return the favor times ten, so he’d know there was no question that she felt the same way he did. But for now, a humble show of appreciation would do.
Kristen touched his arm gently. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“Of course.” He nervously gathered his blond hair like he was going to tie it back and then let it go. “I never leave a buddy behind. Number one rule of surfing.”
Kristen felt a sharp sting under her armpits when he said
buddy,
but she filed it under “surf term.” It probably meant something closer to soul mates,
right
?
“And how unbelievably awesome is it to have
Skye
in our group? People never think that super-hot girls can be cool, but she proves them wrong, don’tcha think?” His round pupils turned to hearts whenever he said
her
name.
Meanwhile, Kristen’s heart took a running leap off the Gregorys’ fifth-floor balcony and smashed on the pavement of the visitors’ parking lot below. She forced a smile, but it probably looked more like a crooked line. “You better go.”
“Seriously.” He chuckled. “Skye is at my house, watching Ripple. If I don’t get back soon, the walls will be covered in glitter nail polish.” He chuckled again. “Aren’t girly girls funny?”
Kristen wanted to grab him by the shoulders and tell him that
she
was into glitter polish. That
she
was a girly girl. That
she
was funny! And that if she’d had the confidence to ignore Ripple’s terrible advice, she would have been wearing the orange dress with the turquoise bracelets. But all she did was thank him again and close the door.
The rest she would save for a box of Puffs and David Beckham.
THE COUNTRY CLUB
MARSHA GREGORY’S SILVER TOYOTA PRIUS
Wednesday, July 22
1:28 P.M.
Marsha stopped her silver Toyota Prius in front of the valet parking attendant with the confidence of Paris Hilton’s chauffeur.
A Hayden Christensen look-alike in white Bermuda shorts and a matching white button-down jogged over with an eager smile that said,
I’ll pretend your Prius is a Mercedes if you tip me well.
But Marsha’s hand was nowhere near her generic black pleather wallet. It was on her daughter’s knee—disguised as an act of affection but really checking for stubble to see if Kristen was in violation of the no-shaving-until-you’re-fifteen rule.
Kristen crossed her illegal leg and sighed. “This isn’t necessary, Mom.”
On the other side of the window, Hayden Christensen was holding on to his smile as best he could. But it couldn’t
“I just wanted to come here and thank your daughter for trying to save my little sister.”
Kristen and Marsha raised their eyebrows.
“She was tutoring Ripple when Ripple snuck out to the country club. Kristen went after her to bring her home before she got in trouble or . . .” He paused for effect, shaking his head grimly. “Or worse. Anyway, my sister got away, but your thoughtful daughter didn’t. And on behalf of my grateful father, who is waiting downstairs in the car, we just want to thank you for raising such a responsible girl.”
Marsha looked at her daughter, silently asking if this was true. Kristen dried her tears on her black sleeve and nodded yes. Next thing she knew, she was being swept into a Bounce fabric softener–scented embrace, smiling into a fold of paisley-covered faux-satin.
Without another word, or even a thank you to Dune, Marsha released Kristen, turned in her Uggs, and shuffled down the parquet hallway toward her bedroom. It was her way of letting Kristen know that she trusted her again. And as for Dune, Marsha owed him nothing. Allowing him five minutes of alone time with her daughter after dark was thanks enough.
“Ehmagawd.”
Kristen mouthed her gratitude. Not only for saving her, but for finally showing her that he was really, truly crushing back—a gesture far more romantic than diamonds or taking a private jet to Paris for dinner. She made a mental note to return the favor times ten, so he’d know there was no question that she felt the same way he did. But for now, a humble show of appreciation would do.
Kristen touched his arm gently. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“Of course.” He nervously gathered his blond hair like he was going to tie it back and then let it go. “I never leave a buddy behind. Number one rule of surfing.”
Kristen felt a sharp sting under her armpits when he said
buddy,
but she filed it under “surf term.” It probably meant something closer to soul mates,
right
?
“And how unbelievably awesome is it to have
Skye
in our group? People never think that super-hot girls can be cool, but she proves them wrong, don’tcha think?” His round pupils turned to hearts whenever he said
her
name.
Meanwhile, Kristen’s heart took a running leap off the Gregorys’ fifth-floor balcony and smashed on the pavement of the visitors’ parking lot below. She forced a smile, but it probably looked more like a crooked line. “You better go.”
“Seriously.” He chuckled. “Skye is at my house, watching Ripple. If I don’t get back soon, the walls will be covered in glitter nail polish.” He chuckled again. “Aren’t girly girls funny?”
Kristen wanted to grab him by the shoulders and tell him that
she
was into glitter polish. That
she
was a girly girl. That
she
was funny! And that if she’d had the confidence to ignore Ripple’s terrible advice, she would have been wearing the orange dress with the turquoise bracelets. But all she did was thank him again and close the door.
The rest she would save for a box of Puffs and David Beckham.
THE COUNTRY CLUB
MARSHA GREGORY’S SILVER TOYOTA PRIUS
Wednesday, July 22
1:28 P.M.
Marsha stopped her silver Toyota Prius in front of the valet parking attendant with the confidence of Paris Hilton’s chauffeur.
A Hayden Christensen look-alike in white Bermuda shorts and a matching white button-down jogged over with an eager smile that said,
I’ll pretend your Prius is a Mercedes if you tip me well.
But Marsha’s hand was nowhere near her generic black pleather wallet. It was on her daughter’s knee—disguised as an act of affection but really checking for stubble to see if Kristen was in violation of the no-shaving-until-you’re-fifteen rule.
Kristen crossed her illegal leg and sighed. “This isn’t necessary, Mom.”
On the other side of the window, Hayden Christensen was holding on to his smile as best he could. But it couldn’t
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