Read Online The Ivy: Secrets by Lauren Kunze, Rina Onur - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lauren Kunze, Rina Onur
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due dates silently, daring them to speak to her. Few tried. Not that she’d been bothering to look in the mirror lately, but she could imagine what she looked like: a zombie. No, worse: a zombie in need of a shower. An ugly, grimy, scary corpse zombie from Night of the Living Dead and not the sexy stuff of teenage-girl, undead fantasies—in need of a shower. Did zombies take showers, or did showers make them melt? And was it weird that thinking about zombies was making her hungrier? Or no, it’s witches that melt, like in The Wizard of Oz . . .
A mobile tweet popped up from @alexisthorndike:
@FM MAG. S O TIRED OF
CELEBRITY SCANDALS INVOLVING SEX TAPES !
G ROSS ! W HEN WILL THESE PEOPLE
LEARN THE MEANING OF PRIVACY ?
Callie frowned. Slowly she raised her eyes and saw the very thing she’d been dreading staring at her from a table inside Lamont Café.
Alexis Thorndike.
Lexi waved cheerily, phone in hand. She was smiling so widely Callie could have sworn she could see the glint of her teeth from across the room.
Grandmother, what big teeth you have!
The better to eat you with, my dear!
Maybe Lexi would melt if Callie dumped a bucket of water on her perfect chestnut curls. Callie pictured sloshing it all over her newly dry-cleaned dress (free delivery via Cinder-Callie), and watching her disintegrate, green and bubbling like acid. She almost smiled back.
Instead she ducked her head and pulled her worn, ancient copy of Pride and Prejudice out of her bag. Skimming through it, she began marking the pages with important quotations that seemed likely to appear on the test. Too bad she’d left Hawthorne at home. What a shame. If only she were in a library . . . Smiling, she gave in and started rereading from the beginning.
“Ahem.” Somebody cleared his throat loudly, breaking her reverie. Sighing dramatically, she kept her eyes on Pride and Prejudice . She took her time finishing the sentence, then painstakingly pulled a bookmark out of her bag and stuck it between the pages before finally setting the book on the circulation desk. Only then did she look up.
She narrowed her eyes, knowing that the effect might be slightly diminished due to the fact that her heart had started pounding so loudly he could probably hear it, even from two feet away.
“I need a book,” said Gregory.
And I need a drink. An apology. An explanation. A hug. FOOD! Anything other than this . “You’ve come to the right place,” she said, gesturing sarcastically. “Although there’s this new invention called the computer—it’s really amazing. You type in the name of the book, and then it tells you where to find it. All without ever bothering the person behind the desk.”
“Fascinating, but I need a textbook. And last I checked, they keep them behind the desk, though I’m terribly sorry to bother you.”
Oh. Dammit. “Which one?”
“ Intermediate Microeconomics by Varian.”
Callie narrowed her eyes. “Why do you need that textbook?”
“So I can study.”
“Study what?”
Gregory rolled his eyes. “Economics.”
“But you’re not in economics.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then why haven’t I seen you in class?”
There was a flicker of his old smile. “I didn’t realize you were looking for me in class . . .”
“I wasn’t,” she snapped.
“Well,” he said, seeming irritated again, “I’m not in your class because I’m in 1010a.”
“No you’re not. The intermediate level is only open to sophomores and juniors.”
“I skipped.”
“Right.” Because the rules don’t apply to you.
“Can I have the textbook?”
“Fine!” she cried, standing. Slipping behind the shelves, she bent down, stopping when she spotted the V s. Varian—there it was. So he’s in genius-level econ—what do I care? Textbook in tow, she walked back to the counter.
“Hey!” she cried, her face flushing crimson. “Put that down!”
Without an iota of guilt Gregory set her copy of Pride and Prejudice on the counter,
A mobile tweet popped up from @alexisthorndike:
@FM MAG. S O TIRED OF
CELEBRITY SCANDALS INVOLVING SEX TAPES !
G ROSS ! W HEN WILL THESE PEOPLE
LEARN THE MEANING OF PRIVACY ?
Callie frowned. Slowly she raised her eyes and saw the very thing she’d been dreading staring at her from a table inside Lamont Café.
Alexis Thorndike.
Lexi waved cheerily, phone in hand. She was smiling so widely Callie could have sworn she could see the glint of her teeth from across the room.
Grandmother, what big teeth you have!
The better to eat you with, my dear!
Maybe Lexi would melt if Callie dumped a bucket of water on her perfect chestnut curls. Callie pictured sloshing it all over her newly dry-cleaned dress (free delivery via Cinder-Callie), and watching her disintegrate, green and bubbling like acid. She almost smiled back.
Instead she ducked her head and pulled her worn, ancient copy of Pride and Prejudice out of her bag. Skimming through it, she began marking the pages with important quotations that seemed likely to appear on the test. Too bad she’d left Hawthorne at home. What a shame. If only she were in a library . . . Smiling, she gave in and started rereading from the beginning.
“Ahem.” Somebody cleared his throat loudly, breaking her reverie. Sighing dramatically, she kept her eyes on Pride and Prejudice . She took her time finishing the sentence, then painstakingly pulled a bookmark out of her bag and stuck it between the pages before finally setting the book on the circulation desk. Only then did she look up.
She narrowed her eyes, knowing that the effect might be slightly diminished due to the fact that her heart had started pounding so loudly he could probably hear it, even from two feet away.
“I need a book,” said Gregory.
And I need a drink. An apology. An explanation. A hug. FOOD! Anything other than this . “You’ve come to the right place,” she said, gesturing sarcastically. “Although there’s this new invention called the computer—it’s really amazing. You type in the name of the book, and then it tells you where to find it. All without ever bothering the person behind the desk.”
“Fascinating, but I need a textbook. And last I checked, they keep them behind the desk, though I’m terribly sorry to bother you.”
Oh. Dammit. “Which one?”
“ Intermediate Microeconomics by Varian.”
Callie narrowed her eyes. “Why do you need that textbook?”
“So I can study.”
“Study what?”
Gregory rolled his eyes. “Economics.”
“But you’re not in economics.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then why haven’t I seen you in class?”
There was a flicker of his old smile. “I didn’t realize you were looking for me in class . . .”
“I wasn’t,” she snapped.
“Well,” he said, seeming irritated again, “I’m not in your class because I’m in 1010a.”
“No you’re not. The intermediate level is only open to sophomores and juniors.”
“I skipped.”
“Right.” Because the rules don’t apply to you.
“Can I have the textbook?”
“Fine!” she cried, standing. Slipping behind the shelves, she bent down, stopping when she spotted the V s. Varian—there it was. So he’s in genius-level econ—what do I care? Textbook in tow, she walked back to the counter.
“Hey!” she cried, her face flushing crimson. “Put that down!”
Without an iota of guilt Gregory set her copy of Pride and Prejudice on the counter,
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