Read Online You Before Anyone Else by Julie Cross and Mark Perini - Free Book Online Page A

“Right.”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œNot really your scene, huh?” she presses, her voice a little softer, less judgmental.
    â€œNo, not really.” I lean over and reach for my bag, then stand and toss it onto my shoulder. “Sorry for crashing here without asking. Won’t happen again.”
    Finley blocks my path to the fire escape. “I looked in your wallet,” she blurts out.
    My stomach knots. I know where this is headed. Guess I had that coming, considering where I left my wallet. I take a deep breath. “Look, it’s not as bad as it seems. I just—”
    â€œNeeded a rags-to-riches story for PR purposes?” she suggests, the judgment returning.
    â€œNo, nothing like that.” In fact, I don’t want any story. Seriously. I want the opposite of a PR story. Is that a thing?
    â€œYou just didn’t want anyone to know where you’re from?” She leans against the metal railing surrounding the balcony, and I’m surprised by the lack of judgment on her face. “Yeah,” I admit, because that’s technically true. Maybe there are other truths I can give Finley without telling her everything. I can’t risk telling her everything. I can’t even risk letting myself think everything. “My parents think I’m at Princeton right now. For the summer program.”
    Finley’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re going to Princeton?”
    â€œObviously not.” I don’t mean to snap at her, but it’s a sore subject. Four generations of Wellingtons have attended Princeton. It may sound ridiculous to other people, but the Princeton weight has been pressing down on me my entire life.
    â€œAll right,” Finley says, her voice softening. “So you got into Princeton, but you’re not going. What are your plans? To make your own money and let yourself get cut off by your parents?”
    Man, that really sounds cliché. But still, I nod. “Basically.”
    â€œSo is anything you’ve told me thus far actually true?”
    I think for a minute, swallow back nerves. “I really am bad at beer pong.”
    For several long seconds, we stare at each other. “No knitting hats for orphaned dogs?” Finley says finally.
    I shake my head and wait.
    Another long pause, and then she opens the door and gestures for me to come inside. “No one’s here except Summer, and she’s sound asleep.”
    My gaze drifts downward, and I notice her feet for the first time. “Nice shoes. Did you sleep in those?”
    She rolls her eyes. “No.”
    The ballet shoes are quickly removed and tossed onto the couch.
    I scratch at a patch of bug bites on the side of my neck while taking in the new living room arrangement. “Huh. I don’t remember the couch being there the other day.”
    â€œPeople are always moving stuff around.” Finley waves a hand and walks over to the fridge, opening it and staring inside without a specific purpose.
    â€œI wonder why anyone would want the couch practically smashed against the wall and then all that room in middle. All that empty floor space.” I spin slowly like I’m really thinking this through.
    â€œFine,” she snaps. “I was practicing. You caught me. Laugh all you want.”
    I’m not laughing. It’s cute and a little sexy that she was dancing—braless—around the living room in pointe shoes. I bend over to examine the very tasty-looking omelet resting on the counter that divides the kitchen and living room.
    Finley snatches the plate right out from under my nose and dumps the omelet into the garbage. “You can’t eat that.”
    I didn’t expect her to turn over her breakfast to me. That would be rude. Even though I’m completely famished. She goes back to the fridge and begins tossing items onto the counter. “It’s been sitting out. I’ll make you a fresh one.”
    Now I feel bad.