Escaping Perfect Read Online Free PDF Page B

you.”
    He laughed, a carefree, booming sound that resounded inside my chest, and then he looked me up and down. This guy was undeniably handsome in a compact, muscular, boyish sort of way. He was maybe two inches shorter than me, but the sheer energy coming off of him made him feel a foot taller.
    â€œHow’s it going? Duncan Taylor. I’m Fiona’s cooler twin.”
    He stretched a hand out to me, but mine were currently full. Still, I made some sort of move. I don’t know if it was a nod or a curtsy or somewhere in between, but my backpackslid heavily off my shoulder and yanked down on my elbow, sending me sideways. I let out a curse as all three glasses slid from my grasp. One hit the floor and smashed into a million pieces, showering the legs of the patrons at a nearby table. The other two fell into the lap of a girl who screeched so sharply I was shocked she didn’t shatter even more glass.
    The diner went silent. The girl, who was Asian and about my age, with perfectly olive skin and long black hair that skimmed her tiny butt, looked up at me, her chest heaving. She plucked the two glasses out of her lap with her fingertips and deposited them on her table. The soda had puddled in the folds of her white sundress along with a few ice cubes. A constellation of brown spots decorated her chest. Her almost black eyes were homicidal.
    Duncan spluttered a laugh.
    â€œWhat the hell ?” the girl spat.
    Her three friends, who had gone unscathed, seemed frozen in terror.
    â€œI’m so sorry!” I blurted. “My backpack fell . . . and I . . . I’m so—”
    â€œDo you even work here?” she shouted, her arms out at her sides, palms up, as if waiting for someone to come towel her off. “Duncan!” she cried accusingly.
    â€œSorry. Sorry, Shelby.” He reached over the counter tograb a towel for her, struggling to keep from cracking up all over again.
    I looked hesitantly over my shoulder at Fiona, expecting her to throw me out like a stray dog off the street. Four seconds into my four-hour trial and I was done.
    But instead Fiona pressed her lips together and lifted her chin at Shelby. It took some obvious effort, like me talking back to my mother had, and I felt oddly proud of her, considering we’d just met.
    â€œYes. She does.” Her eyes fixed on me. “Lia, would you please run to the back and get a mop and dustpan? And you can change into a Little Tree souvenir T-shirt, too. They’re on the shelf in the staff room. We all wear ’em.”
    Swallowing hard, I grabbed my backpack and ran, shooting Fiona a grateful glance.
    â€œWhat about me?” I heard the girl wail as I rounded the counter toward the kitchen door.
    â€œWell, Shelby,” Fiona said, sounding tired, “I suggest you go home and get yourself changed. But don’t forget to pay at the register on your way out.”
    *  *  *
    My four-hour trial turned into an eight-hour shift. At ten p.m., when Fiona and Duncan’s father finally arrived, bringing a new team of waitresses with him, the three of uswere sitting at the end of the counter slumped over sweating glasses of sweet tea.
    â€œSo, Lia, where’re you from?” Duncan asked.
    â€œFlorida,” I replied automatically. It was, after all, where Lia Washington had been born. Sort of.
    â€œSo . . . this place is open till midnight every night?” I asked, changing the subject.
    At the moment there were only three tables with patrons, and they all had their food. I knew that I should get up and make sure they had everything they needed, but I’d barely slept in the last day, and every muscle in my body ached. Plus it was slowly settling in that I’d taken a job when I had no clue how much it paid, that I had no place to sleep tonight, and that the only thing I’d eaten since that awful granola bar was a half a burger I’d scarfed during my