Tonya Hurley_Ghostgirl_02 Read Online Free PDF

date.”
    Scarlet ran through a million comebacks in her mind, like how Petula was an irritating polyp on the butt of society, but uncharacteristically let it slide instead. She bit her lip and kept silent. The ride home felt like ages to Scarlet, but Petula actually made it home in record time. The car had barely stopped when Scarlet threw open the door like a kidnapping victim and literally jumped out. It wasn’t a “tuck and roll” situation, but nearly.
    “I’ve gotta get ready for work,” she yelled as she raced for the front door and up the stairs to her room.
    Petula walked in behind her and realized she was almost out of time. She pulled the separators from between her toes and jammed her foot into a pair of the hottest pointy-toed cougar heels she could find in her closet, then sat down on the carved bench in her foyer to wait for Josh.
    Before long, a car pulled up and Petula, feeling tired from rushing and verbally abusing nail technicians, kept Josh waiting just long enough to be irritating, as was her trademark. Scarlet emerged from her room wearing her trademark red lipstick, a fitted Slits tee with some black skinny jeans accessorized with a thick, vintage aborigine belt and leopard print flats.
    “Oh, look, your hookup is here,” Scarlet said as she grabbed her keys and headed out.
    Petula waited a few seconds and then strutted catlike down the sidewalk and got in Josh’s car. She gave him a long, intimate kiss, said hello, and they sped off. They ended up at a Gorey High house party, a place where Petula was either unknown or loathed. The only person she knew there was Josh, and he was too busy basking in the glow of his super popularity, air-guitaring riffs, and downing Purple Monsters to spend much time with her.
    Petula’s sourpuss was making it totally clear to Josh that she was unhappy being put in a corner with the other “dates.” She wasn’t even trying to socialize with any Gorey girls. Josh walked over to give her some face time.
    “Hey, so sorry, Petunia,” Josh slurred with oily insincerity.
    Even as he was chatting to her, Josh was shoulder surfing, his eyes wandering around the crowd to see if he was making any of the other girls jealous or if there was anyone better out there to hook up with. That kind of shopping around really rankled Petula, even more than getting her name wrong.
    “Done getting your, ah, ego stroked by your Bromeos?” Petula cracked.
    “I’d rather you stroke it,” Josh said, putting his hands around her waist.
    Petula saw his lips moving but could barely hear him through the crowd noise. She really wasn’t feeling well all of a sudden. All that self-absorbed small talk from Josh was starting to make her nauseated.
    Before Josh could get another uncaring word out, Petula lost her balance and leaned into him. She was looking sick, but Josh misunderstood and thought he was about to score with Hawthorne’s most in-demand babe.
    “That’s more like it,” he said cheesily.
    “I don’t feel good,” Petula moaned weakly, leaning harder into Josh for support.
    “Oh, yes, you do.” Josh whispered as he reached down and squeezed her ass. “You feel great. Wanna get out of here?”
    Petula was barely able to shake her head “yes” let alone break his grip on her backside. They split immediately, Josh flashing a thumbs-up to his drooling teammates and dragging Petula along after him. He was planning to take her to The Hut, which was really just his Dad’s ice fishing cabin about five miles away. There were actually beds lined up to accommodate as many couples as possible, like a Third World clinic without the mosquito netting. Unfortunately for Josh, they never made it.
    About halfway there, Petula, who had been slumped in the passenger seat practically unconscious, sat upright and puked all over the dashboard, Josh, and herself.
    “Holy shit,” Josh ranted unsympathetically, dripping vomit. “No wonder Damen left you for your sister.”
    Petula