Art Geeks and Prom Queens Read Online Free PDF Page B

together and raise my shoulders in a slightly more animated shrug than the previous one.
    “Oh, my god. We totally have to fix that.”
    We?
I think. But again, I don’t say anything.
    “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
    “No, that’s okay,” I say. “She’ll be here.” But deep down inside I wonder if it’s true.
    “Come,” she demands, dangling her keys.
    And I hesitate for a moment. Then I get up and follow her. But not because she’s that powerful, but because my mom is that unreliable.
    “So where do you live?” she asks, starting up the engine of a silver convertible Mercedes.
    “Over on Playa del Sol. Is this your car?” I mean, I’m amazed that someone in high school would drive this.
    “I wish. It’s my mom’s. Mine’s a TT Convertible, but it’s getting customized,” she says, pulling out of the student lot. “So I live nearby. I’m on Vista del Mar.” She looks at me and smiles in a way that’s not exactly warm, but not entirely evil either.
    “Oh, I think Jas lives on that street,” I say, just trying to make conversation and
not
because I wanted to say his name out loud.
    “Jasper Klein? You know him?” Kristi asks, narrowing her eyes.
    “Uh, yeah,” I say, looking out the window, because she’s making me uncomfortable.
    “How do you know him?”
    “We have AP Art together,” I say, turning to watch the road for her since she’s still looking at me.
    “So how do you know where he lives? Have you been to his house?”
    “Just once.”
God, why is she interrogating me?
    “Oh, well then you must have seen my house, because I live right across the street.” She smiles brightly, but there’s something behind it.
    I just shrug.
    “So are you guys going to Winter Formal together?” she asks. “What? Jas and me? I don’t think so. I mean, no, definitely not.”
Oh, that was cool.
“Why, are you going?”
    “Duh? Of course I’m going.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
    I just look out the window then because I really don’t know what else to do, and I’m beginning to wonder if she’s only driving me home so she can gather information to use against me later. I mean, not to sound paranoid, but really, why would a perfect, popular girl like her want to hang with me? It’s like one minute she’s being nice, and the next she’s making fun of me ‘cause I asked her about the dance. I’m beginning to feel like I’m caught in a game I don’t know the rules to.
    When we finally turn onto my street I’ve never been so happy to call this place home. “Um, it’s the one at the end, right there.” I point at my house, then hurriedly remove my sweatshirt and shove it inside my backpack.
    “You live there? Wow, that house is like, major. What does your dad do?”
    “He’s a lawyer,” I say, gathering my books, anxious to get out of here.
    “Really?” She looks at my house again like she’s trying to add it all up.
    “Okay, well thanks,” I say, climbing out of the Mercedes just as my mom pulls into the driveway. Great.
    “Rio, you could have called. I went all the way to your school.” She’s lecturing me, but peering at Kristi.
    “Sorry,” I say, trapped between two luxury cars.
    “Is that your mom?” Kristi whispers, watching her get out of the Jag.
    “Uh, yeah. Mom, this is Kristi. Kristi, my mom.” I watch them exchange nearly identical perfect teeth smiles, then I go, “Okay, see ya.”
    “She looks really familiar,” Kristi says.
    But I don’t acknowledge it. I just wave good-bye and go inside.

     
    So, of course, like the minute I walk in the door my mom goes (in her animated voice), “She seems really nice!” Then she looks at me waiting for confirmation.
    “She does? How can you tell? From the Mercedes?”
    “Is she a friend of yours?” she continues, ignoring my comment.
    “Not really.”
    “Well, she must like you or else why would she drive you home?” she asks hopefully.
    “Got me.” I head upstairs.
    “What’s