Unmaking Hunter Kennedy Read Online Free PDF

into focus?”
    Vere nodded as her head started to spin. Every time she dreamed too much about Curtis this happened.
    She needed a way to stop her crush. But how?
    “You do look extra pale. Need some water? Air?” Jenna glanced around the room. “Why do they think starting school in the middle of August, with no air conditioning, in an all-glass school is a good idea? I should call news reporters about this.” She frowned at Vere’s outfit. “Why did you wear that huge hoodie?”
    “It was cold this morning. And I’ve only got a thin undershirt on under here,” Vere moaned. “I can’t take it off.”
    “Do it.”
    “No. I’m not the half-naked-at-school type. Give me your awesome shirt, and you walk around in your underwear. I swear, Jenna, my head is actually spinning in the opposite direction of the rest of my body.”
    Vere sighed and laid her head on her hands, wishing for a breeze to blow through the long row of open windows. Not one branch, not one needle moved on the pine trees shading their lunch quad outside. Just looking at the motionless trees made her body temperature jump another ten degrees.
    Jenna was right. The hoodie had to come off.
    Because if it didn’t, she’d pass out in front of everyone. She’d get wheeled out of here on a stretcher.
    And wouldn’t that be the perfect way for me, the infamous Vere Roth, to begin my junior year?
    Incident Number Two: Knocks HERSELF out.
    No. No. No.

5: crazy ain’t sexy

    HUNTER

    “Hunter. We’re at the airport.”
    Hunter jerked awake. He’d forced himself to sleep for the long ride. Sleep (or pretending to sleep) is what he did when he didn’t want to deal with shit. And that’s what this ride had been.
    Complete. Shit.
    Closing his eyes was also easier than ‘not talking’ to his mom. Safer than instigating a fight too. He yawned and stretched, acting like he still didn’t care that she’d refused to talk to him. Not at Falconer while she’d ruined his hair color, and not once on this whole damn drive had she attempted to wake him. He tried to bait her again, hoping she’d slip up and say something.
    “What’s next in your psycho, ridiculous plan?” “Put on this hat. We can’t let one strand of your new hair show,” she said, her voice was as closed as her shuttered expression.
    “Why? The dark color kind of makes my eyes pop, don’t ya think?” Hunter’s attempts at careless sounding quips had come out in frog croaks.
    Worse, his throat tried to close completely when he realized there was a huge crowd of press waiting where the limo had parked.
    Really?
    His mom watched while he put on the white knit skate cap, then she tucked away every strand of his new hair. “Do not let this hat slip or the whole plan could be blown. You aren’t officially in disguise yet. Okay?”
    “You and this ,” he gestured to the crowd outside, “suck so badly.”
    “Just follow my lead. Martin and the guys are waiting. Take these sunglasses and this matching bag, too.” She tossed him a pair of ultra-dark, white-framed HK glasses and a poorly made, drawstring pack. With silver glitter all over both accessories.
    Hunter was grateful for the glasses because he loved hiding behind any and all dark glasses. He put them on and peered out the window. “Why and how did the publicist manage a press conference at this hour , at this tiny airport?”
    “It’s all part of a bigger plan. Don’t mention Falconer or Colorado. You’ve been in Paris. Okay? That’s all you need to know for now.”
    “Okay. Paris. Check.” Hunter’s head pounded from the effort it took to hold his expressions steady; but then he broke. “ Jesus, Mom. Tell me a little more. I feel like you’re sending me in blind.”
    “I am.” His mom’s gaze caught his.
    He thought he saw her eyes float a glimpse of regret—or sadness—or what ? This was definitely an expression he didn’t recognize. She looked almost desperate. He also thought for a moment she might say