Hidden Deep Read Online Free PDF

her .
    “So you meet an amazing guy in the middle of the woods—why does this kind of thing never happen to me?”
    “I guess you should go skinny-dipping more often,” I teased.
    “I am totally going to do it,” she said. “And you know I will.”
    I laughed, not doubting it for a minute. If there were a Wikipedia entry for “boy crazy,” Emmy’s picture would appear beside it. Unfortunately, she had a chronic weakness for players—guys who were the high school equivalent of womanizers—what was the name for them? Girl-izers? Unlike me, she was always ready to open her heart one more time, to go with her gut and trust that this time it would work out.
    We studied the menu, pushed the button and ordered. The subject changed to her latest epic crush while we waited for our food in the car, listening to the radio. Emmy loved jocks in particular, and lately it was Jake McKee, a senior with great biceps. She was giving me the play-by-play of their most recent school-hallway flirtation when a sultry-sounding female DJ teased us with promises of celebrity sleaze after the commercial break.
    “Oooh—turn it up. I want to hear that,” Emmy said.
    “Why? You’re already some kind of celebrity trivia savant.”
    “I know, I’m slightly obsessed, but I can’t help it. I mean, they’re so freakin’ beautiful. Like Vallon Foster.” She pulled out her phone and caressed the actor’s famous face on the screen. Holding the phone up to me, she said, “Look at him. He’s almost too gorgeous to live. I can’t believe I didn’t get into his fan pod—it sucks to be wait-listed.”
    “Don’t feel bad—I heard they favor kids from big cities on those applications. But why do you even want to be in one of those pods? They’re like… cults or something.”
    “No they’re not .” She shot me a shaming look for suggesting something so blasphemous. “It’s cool that A-list celebrities like Vallon give their biggest fans special access. If you think about it, it’s not much different from an internship, just way more glam. And you get to go to cool parties, and meet other celebs—oh my God—I have to get in. And you’re wrong. It’s not only big city kids. Remember Allison Douglas?”
    “No.”
    “Oh. She’s like five years older than us. She went to my church. She got into a pod a few years ago. I bet she could help me, but nobody around here knows how to reach her anymore. Probably off having too much fun with the beautiful people to keep in touch with anybody back here in this podunk place.” Emmy’s mood made a lightning-fast swing from gleeful spokesperson to dejected kid.
    “But don’t you think it’s kind of weird—how the pods are like, all the same? It’s like some kind of government program or something,” I said.
    And back to gleeful. “That’s totally on purpose. The celebs with fan pods all have the same agent—the best agent in Los Angeles—Alfred Frey. He represents all the top singers, and models, and actors. Even the really cute athletes. I read about it in People . I think it’s brilliant. I bet his clients are the most popular because they’re so connected with their fans. Or… maybe it’s how ridiculously gorgeous they are. I mean, look at this girl, Serena Simmons.” She picked up one of the magazines littering her car and thrust it under my nose.
    I took it from her, studying the improbably perfect face and figure on the cover. “Okay, you’re right. She is hard not to look at. This says she doesn’t even wear any makeup for her close-up shots. How is that possible?”
    “I have a theory that they’re all part of some secret super-race, and the rest of us were born to worship them,” Emmy said, holding her hands in front of her and bowing repeatedly.
    I laughed. “Or maybe she’s full of it. The guy who airbrushed this probably has his arm in a sling now.”
    We ate in the car before driving all of a minute and a half to the ballpark. It wasn’t quite dark yet,