How to Meet Boys Read Online Free PDF Page B

were doing okay until Mikayla tried to go too fast, and the egg went flying, hit me on the ear, and smashed. We couldn’t stop laughing. As disgusting as it felt to have egg white dripping down my face, it was funny. Ava came to the rescue with Kleenex to clean me up, and she’s kind of been coming to our rescue ever since.
    When school started, the three of us didn’t have many activities in common: Mikayla played fall volleyball while I was on the soccer team, and Ava tried one thing, then another. But the three of us had some classes together, and that was enough to keep forming a bond. I helped Mikayla and Ava get through biology, geometry, and pre-chemistry; Mikayla helped me and Ava get through US history and world history; and Ava helped us loosen up and have fun when we got too serious and studied too much. She was also a good writer, and had published poems in our school literary magazine.
    We never had to go through orientation again, but we still teamed up for other major school events. Sophomore year we’d raised hundreds of dollars for the school travel club by selling concessions in the hallways at lunch—Ava would walk around yelling “Everything’s a dollar!” into a bullhorn while Mikayla and I carried the cookies, trail mix, fruit, and other items Ava got her mom to buy in bulk. “We’re like a walking Costco. You guys realize that,” Mikayla had said at one point. “And, like Costco, we have tons of returning customers,” Ava would say. Basically, she did all the talking and selling. Mikayla and I just handed stuff over and took the money.
    We were hoping we’d make enough to go to France, but instead we ended up on buses to Washington, DC, which was one of the most fun trips I’ve ever taken. The three of us shared a room and stayed up later and later every night until we collapsed on the charter bus five days later and slept almost all the way back to Minnesota.
    Now, Mikayla and I kept wandering around the yard sale, examining china, candlesticks, a couple of dated avocado-colored chairs with cigarette burns—and matching avocado ashtrays. Then we saw exactly what we were looking for: a retro kitchen table with four chairs. Unfortunately, it was $300.
    We ended up finding a folding table and chairs for fifty dollars.
    We were trying to fit everything into the back of the car when I heard a loud honk. The car honked again. I looked behind me and saw Claire parking right in back of us. I’d texted her that morning, asking for clues on where to find something.
    “You guys need help?” she asked, coming up to the car. “What did you buy, anyway?”
    “It’s the chairs. They don’t fold down small enough,” I said, laughing. “Claire, this is Mikayla, and vice versa.”
    “Hey, Claire. I’ve heard so much about you. I think the one time I came to visit, you were gone,” Mikayla said.
    “Really? But I feel like I never leave.” Claire laughed.
    She helped us get the furniture squarely into the car. On the edge of the parking lot, a few younger kids had set up a lemonade and cookie stand. We walked over to buy a few cups.
    “To summer!” I said, tapping my cup against Mikayla’s.
    “To summer!” she agreed.
    “Ditto,” said Claire, hoisting her plastic cup in the air.
    I took a gulp of the cold lemonade.
    It tasted like sour lemon meringue pie—it was too thick, and seemed to have no sugar. We all spit it out onto the blacktop, laughing. “So much for toasts,” I said.
    Mikayla crumpled her cup. “We should have known better. We should have toasted with a cookie.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
    HarperCollins Publishers
    ..................................................................
CHAPTER 6
Mikayla
    “Have you heard from Ava yet?” I asked, as Lucy and I walked past Walleye Mafia on Wednesday night. The name was written on a large fish-shaped wooden sign hanging over the front door. The fish had a spaghetti pattern carved on its side and pepperoni-like red