Read Online Pride & Popularity by Jenni James - Free Book Online Page A

nearly collided. For a few moments, I stared at that nose and those lips so close to my own before my gaze traveled up to his glittering eyes. I jerked back but realized I had just crossed the line of disinterested into very interested by the standards of any one of the students who had witnessed our display. To give Taylor credit—which I shouldn’t have done in case it gave the impression I was even mildly okay with the jerk’s existence—he looked just as confused and shaken as I did. A couple of seconds longer and I may have tried to kiss the guy. Infuriated with myself and my lack of ability to breathe, I decided to end this fiasco.
    “Ms. Bailey, can you help me with this water?” I asked loud enough to be heard over the music that streamed into her earphones. “I can’t seem to get my lake to look real.”
    Immediately the room became a flurry of activity as the students dispersed to their seats.
    Ms. Bailey looked up, removed her headset, and glanced around the room as everyone scrambled. “What has been going on here?”
    Because it was an advanced art class, Ms. B. usually left us to our own devices, which allowed her to work freely on her paintings. She was lenient to an extent, but even she wouldn’t tolerate complete abandonment of work.
    “Get back to work, now!”
    She waited until all of the students were working on their landscapes before she walked over to our table. I felt a momentary stab of guilt and hoped the class wouldn’t be punished.
    “I’m sorry, Chloe. You were saying?”
    “Oh, I was wondering if I could get some advice on my lake. I don’t think it looks as realistic as it should.”
    “Remember, dear, you need to repeat the same landscapes and trees you see above the water, in the water. The same colors and all, just more muted, like this.”
    I looked over at Taylor, my mind wandering from Ms. B.’s demonstration. He was completely engrossed in his work. He’s probably trying to make up for all of the time he wasted boasting.
    A glance at Alyssa showed she was doing the same. Only Madison looked right back at me. Slowly, she raised one eyebrow. Her gaze left mine to settle on Taylor and then returned back to me. The look she sent spoke volumes.
    Dang. She still thinks Taylor likes me. How am I ever going to convince her that he doesn’t? Besides, Taylor’s in love. Can’t she see that?
     

     
    “Well, Mr. Winter, it says here that your parents are of German ancestry,” my dad said as he read over the four-page questionnaire Blake filled out before dinner.
    We sat around the table eating Mom’s famous chicken pot pie. Dad had surprised us with the questionnaire earlier, but then he had the nerve to bring it to dinner, too. I still wasn’t sure how Blake was handling it.
    “Yes. My grandparents moved here from Germany.” He bravely smiled.
    “So was that before or after the war?” My father asked around a bite of broccoli.
    “Uh, w–war?” Blake stuttered as he looked at me for help.
    “Be funny,” I whispered as I sipped some water.
    “Yes, the war,” my father said. “Did your grandparents migrate from Germany before or after World War II?”
    “Oh, uh . . . before.” Blake’s eyes darted to my mom as she got up to refill her glass. He quickly scooped up a chunk of chicken.
    “Well, that’s good. Wouldn’t want my daughter to date a Nazi.”
    Blake almost choked on the chicken. “Oh, uh, no sir.”
    Maybe he didn’t hear me. I nudged Blake with my elbow to remind him again, but Dad was already talking.
    “It says here that Lionel Anderson is your boss.” “Uh, yes. I work for him.”
    Wait a minute. Blake works for Taylor’s dad?
    “So you’re working over at the hotel,” my dad continued. “I assume that means you work in the housekeeping department. You’re a maid, correct?”
    Blake took a quick look at my father, probably trying to decide if Dad had just insulted him or not. “N–no, I’m not in housekeeping. I’m a concierge at