Read Online Truth Game by Anna Staniszewski - Free Book Online

points!
    Yeah, right. As if I’m going to risk getting fired just to get bonus points on some game.
    â€œWhat are you working on?” Marisol asks, making me jump. “You keep making weird sounds, like you’re thinking really hard.”
    â€œIt’s this game Briana signed me up for,” I say. Then I try to explain it to Marisol. I can tell by the frown on her face that she gets it even less than I did when Briana first explained it to me. That’s one reason I haven’t told her about it until now. I figured she wouldn’t really be into it.
    â€œWhy would you answer those questions?” she says. “Who knows what kind of evil stuff the company who made that is going to use your answers for? Andrew was telling me that if social media sites are free, that means you’re the product. The company makes money off selling data about you.”
    â€œActually,” I say before she can go on a full-on tirade, “it’s not a company. It’s some high school kid. And it’s just for fun.”
    Marisol still looks skeptical. “If Briana Riley plays it, how much fun can it be? And what if people find out what you wrote?”
    â€œBriana said it’s totally anonymous. And she also said that—”
    â€œWait.” Marisol holds her hands up. “Are you actually quoting Briana Riley? Since when do you agree with a word she says?”
    â€œI-I don’t,” I stammer. “She was explaining how it works, that’s all. Anyway, the game’s actually pretty fun.”
    â€œIf you say so,” Marisol says, and for some reason I can’t help feeling annoyed. Just because it’s not her thing, does that mean I shouldn’t play the Truth Game either?
    â€œOh!” Marisol says, jumping to her feet. “I forgot to show you!” She hurries to her closet and pulls out a bright-orange dress. “What do you think? It’s not done yet, but this is what I’m making for Ms. Emerald.”
    â€œIt’s pretty,” I say, even though I actually think it’s kind of hideous. Marisol and I don’t always have the same taste in clothes, but she always manages to make things look good. Hopefully once it’s done, I’ll understand her “creative vision” a little better.
    She asks me about my opinion on the beading she’s going to put around the collar, but I’m too distracted by how awkward things suddenly feel between us to give her much of an answer. Who would have thought the day would come when I’d have an easier time talking to my worst enemy than to my best friend?

Chapter 10
    â€œWake up, sleepyhead,” Mom says as we get in the car to head to our first cleaning job of the day. I barely slept last night because I was so busy stressing about the chocolate-raspberry macaroons I wound up making for Chip Ackerson. They’re good, and way fancier than the stuff I normally make, but I don’t know if they’re special enough. I mean, he eats unbelievable pastries all the time. Mine have to stand out.
    Then, when I did finally manage to fall asleep, I dreamed about kissing a giant octopus that had Evan’s face. Its slimy tentacles kept getting in the way so that our lips never even touched. Blech!
    We pull up to the Town Center Inn, and I take a deep breath before heading out of the car, my plate of plastic-wrap-covered pastries clutched to my chest. I’d been hoping to wear my lucky shirt today, the one I stained with toothpaste on the first day of school, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Hopefully that’s not a bad omen.
    As I walk, I mumble what I’m going to say under my breath. “Hi! I’m Rachel Lee. I auditioned for Pastry Wars and didn’t get in, but I think if you try these pastries, you’ll see that I deserve another chance.”
    When I go in, I’m surprised to see the inn is tiny and decorated with old quilts and tacky wooden