Diva Read Online Free PDF

zero, and hardly
    anything comes in that, only Rampage and a few others."
    "Rampage is nice," I say.
    Peyton and Ashley exchange looks.
    I've said the wrong thing. I try again. "How about Express?"
    "Too big."
    "Wet Seal?"
    "Huge.
    "The Gap, Banana Republic, Old Navy?" I've bought clothes at all these stores since I got thin. But I've never been as thin as Peyton and Ashley.
    "Too big, too big, too big and too cheap. Hell-o? Old Navy's, like, the cheap version of the Gap."
    I look at Ashley, who nods, confirming that this is, indeed, the sad case, and adjusts her top. I just read an
    article that said the crop top is out. Obviously, that was written by some hopeful fat-girl because all my
    friends are still wearing them.
    "So, what are you wearing to cheerleader tryouts next week?" Peyton asks.
    "Um, I'm not sure I can go," I say, bracing for the nuclear reaction this will cause.
    Total shocksville.
    "But why?" Ashley asks.
    "I don't know." I toy with my salad fork and think. "I'm just not athletic like you guys. I'll look stupid. And I'm not sure I want to be a cheerleader."
    "But it's cheerleading! Everyone wants to be a cheerleader."
    "Caitlin doesn't want what everyone wants," Peyton says, pushing aside her half-eaten salad.
    "Well, what do you want?"
    I have a flash of memory, like a digital photo the second after the snap, of Sean Griffin's face. I wonder
    what it would be like to have friends—or even a boyfriend—who actually get me, people who don't think
    opera and Oprah are the same thing. I squeeze the sour cream packet onto my salad, trying to figure out
    how to explain it to them without seeming snobby.
    I can't. I change the subject. "Did you hear about Brianna Owens and Josh Eisenberg in the luggage
    compartment of the bus, coming back from the chorus trip?"
    "No!" Ashley says. "That skank!"
    And the subject is changed. I pour out all the details I remember, considering I wasn't paying attention,
    and they jabber about how could anyone want Josh Eisenberg's anything in her mouth, and I relax.
    They're happy if they're trashing someone… Do they trash me if I'm not there? Probably. Doesn't matter.
    While they're doing that, I'm free to think about other things. It's been happening more and more lately.
    I pick at my taco salad and think Maria Callas, a diva who—this is probably urban legend—sometimes
    went on a raw-meat diet, because it gave her tapeworms, parasites that helped her lose weight. Yuck. But
    I understand.
    I in in the middle of that thought when I hear a voice across the restaurant.
    "Caitlin!"
    I ignore it, thinking it must be some other Caitlin, but it comes closer.
    "Caitlin!" I turn then and see Sean Griffin walking toward us holding a taco salad identical to my own and a cup of water. "I'm right, right? It's Caitlin?"
    I've lost the ability to speak. I nod. Are my friends staring?
    "Mind if I sit?" He does so, in the empty seat by mine. He opens his salad and starts squeezing sour cream onto it. I watch him. He's wearing loose khakis and a yellow-and-white-striped button-down, which look
    like they've been washed a hundred times. The shirt has a tiny hole under the collar, but the pants are
    ironed to a crease. He's poor , I think, trying the thought on for size. I've never known anyone poor.
    Actually, I've always been the poorest of my friends, with their massive allowances, houses straight out of MTV Cribs , and vacation places in Marco Island and the Keys.
    I can see his skin through that little hole, and I lean closer, fixated on it, almost wanting to reach out with the tip of my finger and touch it… him.
    I draw back, realizing he's watching me. In his loose clothes, he looks skinnier than in the unitard. Maybe
    I'm just seeing him through Peyton and Ashley's eyes.
    Introduce him to your friends before he thinks you're stupid.
    Probably too late.
    "Peyton Berounski and Ashley Pettigrew, this is Sean. Sean Griffin."
    He takes them in, top to bottom. I can actually see his