Read Online Poseur #2: The Good, the Fab and the Ugly by Rachel Maude - Free Book Online Page A

older couple glide away from the tent, their nearly matching wide-legged white linen pants flapping like sails about their tall, lean legs. An intoxicating fog of gardenia musk drifted in their wake, and it was all she could do not to close her eyes and surrender to it, like Dorothy in the poppy field.
    While Janie lamely ogled her parents, Charlotte stabbed her icy drink with a stiff black straw and narrowed her eyes at her underdressed brother. As the aloof and beautiful daughter of two distinguished celebrities, she tried to dress the part (she was wearing a breezy, floor-length Moroccan tunic dress in swirling saffrons and indigo blues, and gold sandals that fastened around the toe with tiny, jeweled straps), but, as usual, her efforts were ruined by her beach sloth of a brother. In his little blue surf pants and flip-flops, Evan looked about as famous as a Celebrity Cruise bartender.
    “Evan,” she sighed. “You and your pull-ups can go now.”
    Golden-haired Evan remained in his seat and scowled. “They’re
board shorts.
”
    “Yeah, board as in
we’re bored
,” Charlotte sighed, fluttering her ink black eyelashes. “Of you.”
    To Janie’s surprise he glanced her way, a flash of wounded pride on his otherwise self-assured, handsome face, his blue-green eyes beseeching (there was no mistaking the question):
do you really think I’m boring
? Janie looked at the paved ground and blushed. Of
course
she didn’t think he was boring (that he should even care!), but she wasn’t exactly in a position to
say
so, either. Didn’t he get that? Didn’t he understand the
position
she was in?
    Charlotte observed her brother storm across the terrace, and sighed. “Thank God.” She returned her green-eyed attention to Janie. “I
really
need to talk to you.”
    “You do?” Janie perched on the edge of Evan’s vacated white wing chair.
    “I have something huge to confess.” She lowered her voice, leaning forward. Her tumultuous ebony curls, which she’d tied into a low, side ponytail, tumbled over her left shoulder and bounced along her collarbone. “I haven’t told
anyone.
”
    “Really?” Janie trilled. Of course, flattered as she was to be taken into Charlotte’s confidence, she couldn’t repress a small flicker of suspicion. If she hadn’t told anyone, why in the world tell
her
?
    “You look a little tense,” Charlotte observed. “You like mojitos, don’t you?”
    “They’re pretty good,” Janie ventured, guessing Mojitos were a high-end brand of chips, perhaps the gourmet cousin of Doritos, Fritos, and Cheetos. Charlotte reached across the table, clutched a slender frosted glass, and pushed it into Janie’s hand. “What is it?” She blinked, sniffing the mysterious contents, a refreshing combination of what looked like crushed ice, lawn clippings, and pee.
    “It’s a mojito,” Charlotte replied slowly, knitting her delicate eyebrows. Her glossy pink lips twitched with mirth. “What did you think a mojito was?”
    “No, it . . . it’s just . . .” Janie stammered, the back of her knees pricking with sweat. Unlike the majority of her Winston peers, she had yet to procure a fake ID, and she couldn’t bear the humiliation of explaining as much to Charlotte, who most likely received hers at birth, along with her baby ID bracelet.
    “Janie,” Charlotte sighed, “is this going to be a problem? Because there’s still time to change it to a Sunny-D.”
    “It’s not that,” she insisted. “It’s just, um . . . I’m on this medication.”
    “Oh right.” Charlotte leaned back into her wing chair with a delicate frown. “That’s the same medication Jake’s taking, right?”
    “Accutane,” Janie conceded with a hot blush, instantly regretting she’d brought it up. At times, admitting to taking acne medication was more embarrassing than having the acne to begin with. “I’m on a very small dose,” she stressed. “But still . . . I’m not supposed to drink.”
    “I know all