Read Online P.S. I Loathe You by Lisi Harrison - Free Book Online Page A

reddened and her forehead began to leak. “What?” She stood.
    “You’re jealous because I’m C-plus and you’re C-minus.” Massie forced a pout, obviously trying to empathize. “What about that ah-dorable tennis pro you met in Hawaii?”
    “Brady?” Dylan’s coloring returned to normal. “Puh-lease. He’s on tour for the next three years. The wait for a Prada Fairy bag isn’t that long.”
    “When can we talk about the cheerleading squad?” Alicia placed her pumiced heel on the back of Kristen’s desk chair and leaned forward to stretch. “I was thinking the moves could be mostly modern dance. It’s a totally fresh take on—”
    “Rate me.” Massie put a hand on her hip, lifted her chin, and cocked her head. Her dark brown hair was straight and glossy. The flowing hemline of her African-print maxi-dress kissed her gold pedicure. And her cheekbones shimmered like Mount Kilimanjaro at dusk.
    “Nine,” Alicia blurted.
    The others nodded in agreement.
    Satisfied, Massie struck a pose. She rotated the left side of her face toward the door and half smiled as if it were about to snap her photo.
    “Why do you care about your rating?” Kristen asked, wondering if the alpha would admit she was hoping to see Dempsey. “It’s just a sleepover.”
    “Why do you care about the number of goals you score?” Massie pinched her cheeks for some last minute color. “It’s just a game.”
    “That’s
different
.”
    “How?” Massie checked the time on her 3G. “You play to win and so do I.”
    “Point!” Alicia lifted her finger in the air.
    “What are you trying to win?” Claire tied a red gummy worm around her ring finger.
    “Hell-ooooh?” a boy’s voice called from the hall outside Kristen’s bedroom. “Anybody home?” He knuckle-knocked.
    “
That
.” Massie rolled back her shoulders and smiled like a prom queen.

THE PINEWOOD
    KRISTEN’S BEDROOM
    Friday, September 25th
7:26 P.M.
    Prickly heat spread throughout Kristen’s entire body. Was the room hotter than seventy-six degrees? Had her antiperspirant stopped working? Were Dempsey’s eyes always army green? She wiped her palms on her blue-and-white striped Victoria’s Secret pajama bottoms, wishing she had worn something less . . . cotton. But her mind and body were like plaids and stripes, refusing to work together, leaving Kristen to wonder why, exactly, her internal crush furnace was overheating to such an obvious degree.
    Was it:
    A) The thrill of having a boy—any boy—at her first sleep-over?
    B) The pressure she felt to save Dempsey for Layne? Even though Massie had sprayed him?
    C) Knowing on some deep subconscious level that in two days Dune would be standing in her doorway and she couldn’t wait?
    D) Something else she didn’t dare consider?
    Kristen always chose C when she didn’t know the answer.
    A sudden waft of Chanel No. 19 filled the room.
    “What’re you doin’ here?” Kristen managed, trying to sound casual.
    “He must have seen your
note
,” Massie blurted sharply, alerting her to play along. “You know, the one you
slid
under his
door
that said to
stop
by
and
let
us
know
if you made the
team
. Heart—
only as a friend
—Kristen?”
    “Oh yeah.” Kristen blushed again. “So,
did
you make it?”
    Dempsey stepped into the room. His dirty blond hair was sweaty and matted. His black soccer shorts were perfectly baggy, his cheeks ah-dorably pink. Why did he have to look so soccerlicious?
    “Yup.” He grinned. “I quit the play and everything. There’ll be another one next semester.”
    “Yayyyyyyy!” The girls applauded.
    He smiled wide, like someone who had no clue he’d just broken Layne’s heart.
    “Congratulations, cheerleaders, that was your first official cheer,” Massie said in her coachiest voice.
    “Is this the
whole
squad?” Dempsey chuckled, helping himself to a handful of “Italian popcorn” as he scanned the other snack options.
    “Tryouts are on Monday,” Massie spoke up before