Fangirl Read Online Free PDF Page A

onstage—but she really did have a valid claim at being a unique chick:
    Â She was one of the few girls at Lawndale High who didn’t belong to a catty clique. Just Josie Brant: A+ student, D+ dater, and A+ free spirit.
    Â She was the only freshman taking an AP English class.
    Â With no boyfriend and no catfights on her record, for someone who technically was a drama club nerd, she lived a relatively drama-free life.
    Yet here Josie stood on the floor of the arena with her expectant eyes glued to the strobe light–splashed stage.
    Most boys her age were too busy popping ollies on their skateboard or trying to get to the next level in Rock Band or Call of Duty. Boys. Peter was a guy.
    Josie’s mom was okay with Josie’s “little obsession.” Her daughter didn’t drink or do drugs, didn’t obsess over boysto the point it hurt her grades, and she had never even puffed on a cigarette—not to mention done anything remotely illegal. Josie had kissed only two boys in her life. Not as prolific a record as Ashley (nine boys and counting), but who needs boys when your addiction is Peter Maxx, the greatest singer-songwriter of your generation, the best thing since God created Twitter?
    But now Josie stood on the arena floor, wishing Christopher had come. Even Peter haters were converted to lovers after seeing him live. But Christopher stubbornly refused.
    Even so, that didn’t stop Josie from hyperactively texting Christopher a blow-by-blow account of everything from the arena floor as they waited for Peter to take the stage. Ashley noticed Josie’s fingers texting furiously and told her, “You guys should totally be boyfriend-girlfriend. You guys are obsessed.”
    â€œNever,” Josie replied. “Why ruin a perfect friendship by complicating everything?”
    â€œUm, because you love him?”
    â€œI do love him, but I am not in love with him.”
    â€œC’mon, Jo-Jo. You guys are like ten times more in love than any couple at school.”
    â€œWell, A, we’re just friends, and B, Christopher doesn’t like me like that anyway.”
    â€œOkaay,” Ashley teased. “Denial isn’t just a river in Africa. I’m just sayin’ . . .”
    â€œSayin’ what?”
    â€œThat you guys would be an awesome couple. That’s all.”
    Ashley snatched Josie’s phone from her hands and began scrolling through her most recent text chat with Christopher.
    â€œOh my god, Josie. You guys have texted each other like fifty messages in the last hour! You guys are ridic.”
    â€œAnd your point is . . .”
    â€œIf that isn’t true love, I don’t know what is.”
    Ashley handed the phone back to Josie and glanced at her sideways. “Are you sure you guys aren’t doing it?” She giggled.
    â€œStop!!!” Josie begged, as she typed out another text to him. “I’m not ‘doing it’ with anyone!”
    Ashley raised her left eyebrow in a skeptical arc.
    â€œAsh, I’m not kidding. There’s zero chemistry. I’m so not attracted to him like that. He’s just a sweet guy. Don’t worry. We’re not sexually active. Just textually active.”
    Still, Ashley wouldn’t let up. “Well, FYI: you’re totally marrying him.”
    Josie, however, was attracted to Christopher’s brain, not to him physically. First of all, she was an inch taller than him, and the fact that Christopher’s dad was a tiny man of five-foot-eight meant he didn’t have much upside potential in the height department. And when they hugged, she could feel the bones of his shoulders pressing against her. He didn’t have the muscles or height of someone like, say, Peter Maxx.
    She wasn’t proud of herself for being so superficial, but this was just how she felt, though she would never tell Christopher this.
    Who’s always there when no one cares
    Who’s my Band-Aid