The Pretty One Read Online Free PDF Page A

their little sisters were too loser-ish to be asked by anyone else. And as tempted as I might be to drag my big sister down to my level, can I really do that to her?
    Why yes! Yes, I can!
    Lucy’s phone rings. She looks at the caller ID and mouths, “Tommy.”
    Oh crap.
    â€œTell him yes,” I say, as gently as I can.
    â€œYou sure?” she asks, wrinkling her nose in a cute, little girl sort of way.
    â€œI’m sure.” I wrap my beefy arms around her size-two body and give her a quick squeeze before she answers her phone. And then I sit on the bed and chew on my thumbnail as I listen to her accept Tommy’s invitation to the fall festival.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    At lunch the next day, Simon is staring at me. Not that this is unusual, since Simon and I always sit by ourselves at lunch, so there’s really no one else to look at. “Is everything okay?” he asks. “You seem distracted or something.”
    I haven’t told Simon I am obsessing about this whole Drew thing, but I’m pretty sure he knows anyway. He can read me like a book. He and I have been inseparable ever since our first day of high school when we met in the nurse’s office, both using the same lame excuse to escape the scene in the cafeteria: a stomachache. We immediately launched into a conversation about the difference between Ding Dongs and Ho Ho’s and my stomachache miraculously disappeared. By the time the nurse informed Simon that his mother wasn’t answering her cell phone, it no longer mattered. We have sat across from each other at lunch every school day since.
    â€œI’m thinking about what Drew said yesterday,” I say, putting down my sandwich. I can’t stand the awful-tasting glop they serve in the cafeteria, so I always bring my lunch. “About trying out for a play.”
    â€œAnd?” he asks.
    â€œI was thinking it might be more fun if you tried out, too.”
    Simon laughs. “Not this again.”
    I play with the strings on my hoodie as I look behind Simon, toward the corner of the cafeteria where Drew is eating lunch. He never eats lunch in the cafeteria. In fact, this is the first time I’ve ever seen him in here. He’s sitting next to Lindsey and has his arm draped casually around her shoulders.
    â€œI just think it might be fun,” I say.
    â€œNo thanks, Arse,” he says. “Or do you prefer Mr. McDoody?”
    The thing about Simon is that he really possesses an amazing sense of self. Unlike me, Simon has a life completely separate from school. Every summer he attends band camp, where, according to his stories of all the girls he has made out with, he is the campus stud.
    â€œMiss McDoody, if you please,” I say mechnically, as I continue to stare at Drew.
    â€œWhat
are
you looking at?” Simon asks. He twists around in his seat, following the direction of my gaze. “Oh,” he says, “dream boy.”
    Dream boy.
Ha-ha. I get it. Like it’s just a dream that I’ll ever be able to go out with him. How hilarious. Slap my knee and hold me back.
    I know Simon isn’t trying to be mean, because although he’s ornery he’s actually very sweet (in a kind of bitter, cranky grandpa sort of way), but I still feel like I stepped on a jellyfish. “I’m just thinking about what he said about the dance.”
    â€œRefresh,” Simon says, turning back to face me. “What did he say about the dance?”
    â€œJust that we should go.”
    â€œAnd that’s why you want to go? Just because of some offhand comment Drew made?”
    â€œNo,” I say, as the jellyfish becomes a piranha. “I want to go to the dance because I think it’ll be fun. And also…because…because I’m tired of sitting home alone.”
    â€œAlone? Excuuuuuse me! I thought we were going to watch
Star Wars,
with Portuguese subtitles this time. In fact, I just bought