Read Online Star Power by Zoey Dean - Free Book Online

direction, grabbing her camel leather luggage bag as she tugged her navy RL mini skirt. Then she dashed off to class.
    Becks watched as Coco disappeared among the throngs of BAMS students, some familiar-looking, others not. She had never realized how much she depended upon Mac for her social life. Why hadn’t she made more of an effort with her other classmates all these years?
    Standing alone at La Table, Becks scrolled through the contacts in her phone, wondering who she could possibly call. Her finger landed on a picture of the Inner Circle, and she pressed the little text button to type: WHAT R U GUYS DOING AFTER SCHOOL? PINKBERRY?
    She pressed send, and three replies came almost instantly:
    COCO: SORRYBÉBÉ, GOING TO PROVE FINN WRONG. XO!
    EMILY: RECOVERING FROM DISASTER YESTERDAY. WILL TELL U LATER. SIGH . . .
    MAC: PINKBERRY IS BANNED. LET’S ALL PRETEND DAIRY DOES NOT EXIST.
    What was left of Becks’s good mood was quickly evaporating like fog on a Malibu morning. She typed back to Mac, RIGHT! HOW ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE? and silently wished for Mac to write back, COME TO MY HOUSE AFTER SCHOOL! Or even, MEET ME AT THE GROVE. That’s how desperate she was feeling: She was willing to shop. Her iPhone vibrated in her hand.
    MAC: IS EVERYTHING OKAY WITH DIXIE!?!?
    Becks’ shoulders slumped and her heart felt heavy in her chest. It definitely wasn’t the response she was hoping for. But then, that gave her an idea. She pressed reply and quickly tapped the screen of her phone: ALL GOOD. DON’T WORRYABOUTME. L8R.

CHAPTER NINE
    mac
    Monday September 28
    M ac sat in an oak-paneled classroom, half reading Variety and half listening to the tutor. The set was a New England boarding school classroom, with eighteenth-century reproduction paintings of colonial heroes on the walls and hollow leather-bound books lining the shelves. Davey sat on Mac’s right side and Emily sat on her left, which meant that Mac was literally stuck in the middle. The rest of the class was an odd mix: There was Emily’s stand-in, Sidnie, whose only job was to stand under lights while the crew adjusted them until Emily came in to film her take; and there was Kimmie Tachman, who had her pink iBook open, probably live-blogging this thrilling scene. Even the teacher was odd: Her name was Christine Calmet (pronounced “Call- may ”). She was a large woman who wore khaki-colored shorts, a sleeveless sweat-dotted silk blouse with a big bow around the neck, and a visor, even though they were indoors.
    â€œWho can tell me what’s interesting about the Pythagorean theorem?” Ms. Calmet looked eagerly around the room, as if prepared to fend off answers. She anxiously tapped her fingers on the heavy oak desk. Her bare shoulders slumped forward. “Please, someone answer me?”
    Davey wrote a note on a piece of paper and slid it over for Mac to see. Um, nothing?
    Mac giggled and caught Davey’s eye. Something fluttered in the pit of her stomach, and she quickly looked away, reaching for the pencil in the ridge of her oak desk. She pulled at it, but it was glued down—right, it was a prop. Davey seriously needed to stop being so flirty, and she seriously needed to stop, well, liking it.
    Ever since Davey’s confession, she’d been living in fear. After all, if he was forward enough to just come out and basically say that he liked Mac (who does that?!), what was to stop him from saying something around Emily?
    â€œWhat are you laughing about?” Emily whispered. She looked over Mac’s shoulder at Davey, trying to make eye contact.
    â€œNada.” Mac gently shushed Emily. Emily looked annoyed but sat back in her chair.
    Ms. Calmet sighed, pulling a crumpled tissue from her navy blue pleather purse. Mac wondered if she was going to cry, but then she stuck it down her shirt, mopping the sweat off her chest. “Does anyone even know the Pythagorean theorem?”
    Mac felt bad for