Read Online Pretty Wanted by Elisa Ludwig - Free Book Online

stomach. Let’s go get some lunch. I’m starving. My treat.”
    “So you’re treating me with our Facebook money?” I nudged him in the side.
    “Order anything you want.” He waved his bandaged hand. “I’m feeling generous.”
    “So what next?” Aidan asked me, licking barbecue sauce off the back of his thumb. We were sitting in Bubba’s Smokehouse restaurant, back in downtown St. Louis. Aidan had insisted that since we’d skipped breakfast we could afford to splurge on this slab of ribs for our late lunch, that in fact we actually needed the calories if we were going to survive. I thought that was a little bit dramatic.
    “We talk to Toni Patterson slash Cumberland.” That was the plan, at least. I took a bite of the smoky meat with sweet, spicy sauce. “These are pretty good, I have to admit.”
    “Best in the city,” he said, pointing to a ribbon on the wall. “Don’t say I never take you anywhere, Colorado.”
    A couple of college-aged guys and their girlfriends were watching highlights from last night’s football game on the mounted TV over the bar. My eye traveled upward and saw that the show had broken for an SUV commercial. The group was sparring about their predictions for the rest of the season.
    “Football,” Aidan said, looking over that way. “Never my favorite sport.”
    “I always took you for more of a rugby guy,” I said. “Or is it lacrosse?”
    “Neither. Soccer all the way, man. My dad’s supposed to fly me to the World Cup in Brazil.” He paused over his rib. “Well, I guess I blew that one, didn’t I?”
    The game ended and another political ad came on. David Granger again.
    “Enough of this guy,” someone at the bar said. “I’m so sick of this election already.”
    He changed the channel to a cable news show, where two girls were being interviewed. I squinted. Was that . . .?
    “Kellie and Nikki,” Aidan said, taking a sip of his soda. “This has gotta be about us. It’s a bad scene when the Glitterati are on TV. That’s all they need, more reasons to act like divas.”
    “Shhh,” I said, trying to listen.
    They were sitting in two armchairs in what looked like someone’s living room. Probably Kellie’s, but if so, it would have been only one of the three separate living rooms in her gigantic mansion. A caption flashed underneath their made-up-for-TV faces: FORMER CLASSMATES OF TEEN OUTLAWS “ SLY FOX ” AND AIDAN MURPHY
    “I wish they’d give me a nickname already,” Aidan said. “It’s completely unfair that you get such a cool one and I’m stuck with what’s on my birth certificate.”
    Kellie was staring into the camera, the tears in her big blue eyes threatening to drip mascara down her cheeks. “She’s my friend. Or she used to be.”
    “And you’re still hurt about it?” the interviewer asked gently. She was softballing them. Of course. Their parents probably had lawyers write up some agreement about what questions they could and could not ask ahead of time.
    Kellie pulled on her diamond-studded earlobe. “Yes. One minute she’s here, and the next she’s gone. I feel . . . I don’t know. Violated, I guess. It’s really a trust thing.”
    “Oh, come on,” I muttered. Those were the most obviously fake tears I’d ever seen. Now she was acting like her feelings were hurt? The girl had viciously bullied Mary, Sierra, and Alicia. She had threatened me and Cherise on numerous occasions. She maintained a rotating stable of hookups that she picked up and put down at her convenience. She didn’t know the first thing about trust or real relationships.
    “This whole thing has gotten way out of control,” Nikki was saying. “I mean, this girl has stolen from us. Doesn’t anyone care about that? It’s, like, she’s become this hero or something, when we’re the real victims here. I’m still traumatized. I can’t sleep at night. My parents have had to get me therapy to deal with my anxiety.”
    “That rich chick needs a reality