Always Us (We Were Us Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

café food. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the T&C Café, but they weren’t known for healthy foods. No roadside diner really was.
    All three girls were giggling and chatting on the couch. Michelle was fiddling with Stef’s hair. She’d recently cut her hair shorter so it brushed her shoulders. Her usually mousy brown hair was now streaked with hot pink. I remembered last year she’d told me that she’d just had her entire head hot pink, but dyed over it because she didn’t want to stand out too much on her first day of school. Since then she’s had several colors in her hair including purple and turquoise. Always tastefully done and she always looked fabulous. She carried herself with confidence, something I wished I had.
    “How do I look?” It was the beginning of September and still hot most days, but the nights were getting colder as autumn approached.
    I had on a pair of skinny jeans and a black and white chevron racerback tank top. I grabbed a cardigan too, just in case it became chilly later tonight.
    “Perfect!” Michelle said. She, of course, was the picture of perfection. She wore a pink, swirly skirt with a white halter top. Her red hair was thrown precariously into a perfect ponytail. Lauren’s blond hair was similar, pulled back into a tight, high ponytail, her long swooping bangs falling over one eye.
    Dang. We were hot.
    “Let’s go guys! The night is young and I don’t want all the good guys to be snatched up before we get to the bar!” Lauren said, hurrying us out the door.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    “Lauren, are you sure this is safe?” Stef asked.
    We’d pulled up to the bar she’d mentioned. It was downtown Brookhaven, but it was down a side street, away from the hustle and bustle of the other bars and shops that lined the streets.
    “Of course it is. Some girls were talking about it this morning at school.” She exited the car and motioned for us to follow.
    The building looked decent enough. The yellow stucco and burnt orange roof gave it a southwestern feel. There were several small windows cut out that made me feel better about escape routes.
    “Come on guys, I’m sure it’s fine,” I said, feigning confidence.
    Our pedicures had been uneventful and kind of sucked. Stef and I had discussed where to go before hand, but since neither of us had ever gotten a pedicure before, we decided to just go to the place in the mall. They never looked busy, and had at least six chairs so we hoped we could all sit together while we got our toes done.
    As expected, the place was deserted. This should have been our first clue as to how the pedicures would go. I’d picked out a pretty red color, but for some reason, the lady doing my pedicure started painting my nails black. She didn’t speak any English, so I just left it alone. The water was luke warm and cloudy and the chairs, which were supposed to be massage chairs, were broken. The parts jabbed us in the back causing us to sit at odd angles just to be comfortable.
    Forty-five minutes later we waddled out of the salon barefoot because they were out of the disposable flip flops. I vowed to never go back to that place again and prayed I didn’t pick up some rare foot disease or something.
    I’d followed Lauren’s directions to the bar she’d heard about, only to discover that it was situated down a long dark alley. The parking lot was half full but that was the only encouraging feature about it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say serial killers would be popping out from behind the old wood-paneled building any minute now. I pulled into a spot as close the front door as I could get and under a flickering lamp so that at least we could see our attackers before they hacked into us.
    But no attackers emerged so we climbed out of the car and scurried to the front door. A fat man in a black shirt with bouncer printed in white letters across his chest stood in our way.
    “You comin’ in?” he said. His voice was gruff and he looked us up and