Things Are Gonna Get Ugly Read Online Free PDF Page B

curl my toes.
    â€™Sup?
    It’s so bad I have to stop next to the water fountain where the John F. Kennedy mural says something about doing stuff for your country. As fast as the chills came, they are gone.
    But for some reason, my body’s still jumpy from that tremor and I’m feeling jittery. How random. What did just happen, exactly? Hello, you live in the Bay Area of California, Taffeta. Earthquakes, mudslides, and traffic are a part of life. Get over it. I look around. Nobody is exactly acting all weirded-out or anything.
    The bell rings, and soon everybody streams into the hallways. The bulletin boards have been newly decorated with Christmas, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa decorations that Leadership organized. The seventh graders did a decent job putting them up, althoughsome of the dreidels are crooked. But I’m not exactly feeling the holiday spirit, after those chills and everything.
    Down the corridor, I spot Tyler Hutchins strutting over to his locker. I try to stand up straighter and stop the slight tremors in my legs. Even from a distance, he looks hotter than any other guy in the eighth grade—his white hair with its beautiful green sheen, low-rider jeans and a Boardgarten T-shirt.
    I’ll speak to him, my Nordic god, very soon. Tyler will be thrilled when I say yes to Winterfest.
    I stroll down the hall to Tyler’s locker and knock into a seventh grader. I swing back my hair and my hips. True, I don’t really have hips, but life’s all about illusion.
    Right?
    Sure enough, all of The Guys whirl around to check me out. Justin and Tyler huddle in the hallway, kicking around a hacky sack.
    â€œLook, it’s coming!” says Justin, cupping his mouth in his usual megaphone style. It . What is he talking about? Tyler spins around, and so do the rest of The Guys, so I smile at them with my top lip pulled taut against my whitened teeth for maximum smile effect.
    â€œHey!” I call out, strutting over to Tyler, and he stares at me as I put my hand on his shoulder. He takes a big gulp of air. Could the boy be intimidated by me? Probably.
    I stare seductively at him, my eyes following his fingers as he scratches the long skinny scar that crawls like a caterpillar along his chin. I can’t help thinking about how Tyler escaped from kidnappers. I wonder how you go about attracting robbers and letting them know you’re up for ransom?
    â€œHey, Ty. It’s me, ready to talk. This is your lucky day, bay-bee!”
    Taking a step backward, Tyler crams his binder into his locker. “Afraid of that.” This comment takes me totally by surprise. Usually Tyler demonstrates, like, not one iota of sarcasm or humor. He wheels around, slams his locker shut, glances down at his Nike trainers, and mumbles. “I didn’t copy off you in math last week.”
    What is he talking about? Under my glare, he squirms. “Okay, just a little, but Justin did it first.” Justin twists his face and makes a cross with his fingers like I’m a vampire. “I didn’t copy off of it .”
    â€œCopy? It? What are you talking about? I’m terrible at math.” Every morning, I get my mathhomework from Maggie the Mushroom’s invisible friend or some number-smart person. “Math. Not my thing,” I say with a wave of my hand.
    The corners of Tyler’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, okay, sure, Einstein. What-evah.”
    â€œWe need to talk.” I raise my eyebrows as sexily as possible and swivel my shoulders so my chest is at its premium. “Alone.”
    Edging away from me, Tyler clenches his jaw and shoves his hands into his jeans pockets. Weird. Tyler is proving quirkier by the second. Maybe I misjudged him. Okay, I take in a little bit of breath. Normally, I never get nervous doing these things. Usually, I feel charitable giving someone a piece of my time because I’m always being pulled in ten million directions at once. “The answer is