Broken Read Online Free PDF Page B

shook her head. “My stock is plummeting off the charts. Before you know it, we’ll be in the negative on cool points,” Frenchy texted me.
    â€œNo worries. I got you,” I texted.
    She laughed. “Wow. Am I at the point of an S.O.S.?”
    â€œWe have a new crew so the jury is still out.” I liked to play along with Frenchy’s dramatizations.
    â€œCheck Philicia, nine o’clock,” Frenchy texted.
    â€œBe easy,” I texted.
    â€œI got you,” Frenchy texted.
    We both laughed. Philicia and Frenchy were age-old frenemies. Philicia was somewhat geeky. It wasn’t the way she dressed. She dressed average—for example, today she had on a khaki skirt and a polo tee. She was just into some obscure things like the Students Against Social Media club. This was an obvious travesty of magnificent proportions since it warranted an after-school commitment. Whatever happened to good ole animal rights or feeding the hungry? Philicia was also part of the marching band. Herinstrument? Cymbals. I’m sure she was very friendly. She had that curly mop-top sort of hair. That was cool. Either way, Frenchy was never going to forget Philicia stealing her first boyfriend in the ninth grade. I really didn’t think Philicia still cared. She was always trying to say hi to Frenchy.
    â€œIs she texting you?” Sierra texted.
    Oh, gosh. Sierra was always so personal. She always acted like I liked Frenchy more than I liked her. I wondered if the constant competition had something to do with being a twin.
    We walked out of the Saloon with an air of excitement. I was actually terrified of riding. But in a good way. It was challenging. I gave the horse commands but I had to feel him through the ride. I felt like it was one thing where I wasn’t handicapped. It was all about feeling.
    â€œHey, Frenchy. Um, we’re doing a pool thing at my house tomorrow. Maybe you and Sierra want to come?” Philicia said to Frenchy.
    Had she rushed out of the Saloon to catch us? This was not good. I just shook my head. While Philicia was nice, Frenchy always held a grudge.
    â€œYou know I sleep better knowing you are dead to me.” Frenchy walked right past Philicia to the valet booth.
    â€œSorry. She has no manners,” Sierra said as she followed behind Frenchy with the valet ticket in hand. I just smiled at Philicia. I didn’t really know her.
    â€œIs she sprawled all over your brother’s Ferrari?”
    Mama’s Ferrari? The speed of my turn probably attracted more attention than I wanted. I was flaming mad when I saw Cara lying on the front of the Ferrari with Dimitristanding there like an idiot making googly eyes at her. She sat up, turned to him, then wrapped her legs around him. She put a white piece of paper in his pocket. Then she climbed over him and walked away. She slid her fingers along the side of the car as she walked away.
    Then she turned around to him and said, “Will you give me a ride in your Batmobile later?”
    Sierra grabbed me by the arm. “The car’s here.” I looked back. Dimitri had pulled away. Cara ducked into the back of a Rolls-Royce.
    â€œWe’re like celebrities. Everyone on the block is watching us,” Sierra said.
    â€œYeah, right!” I said.
    â€œPlease, you know you love it!” Sierra said.
    We were certainly A-list. But not by my design. It just happened that we were friends with all the A-list people in our class. I’d always sat in the A section at lunch. Sierra and Frenchy liked to think of us as famous. I garnered enough stares in public. I’d like to think the people at school were used to seeing me. Take, for example, Apple. We said hi to each other. Her father was the producer of three of the top five action films last year. Her mother was an Oscar-nominated actress who was on an HBO pilot this year. And her sister had her own cable reality show. Apple was the quiet type, though.