Beware of Boys Read Free

they will. I’ma see to it. Trust!” he growled, flipped his visor back down, then sped off.
    Charly stood watching him with wide eyes as he disappeared around the corner. For the life of her, she couldn’t process what had just happened. Not at the rate it went. Two minutes ago, her purse had been snatched. Thirty seconds later, it had been returned.
    â€œCheck it!” Lola urged, walking up next to her. “Is everything in there?”
    Charly snapped to, then opened her purse and rifled through it again. She nodded. It was all there, including her phone. She exhaled, not realizing she’d been holding her breath. “Nothing’s missing.” She looked at Lola, trying to read her expression, hoping that they felt the same way. Lola nodded as if she could read Charly’s mind. “If we say anything—if this gets out—you know I won’t be able to go to the concert. It’s bad enough I’ll probably be on the Internet later.”
    Lola laughed. “You’re probably on there now! You and Mkel, and I know he won’t be happy about that, especially since he’s known for helping girls.”
    Charly reared back her head, remembering the guy in the store had said something similar. “What do you mean?”
    â€œDuh!” Lola said. “I asked you to read the article. Didn’t you? Mkel is one of the three who’s formed the foundation to help girls.” She shrugged, switching topics. “But what’s important now is we’ll be able to go to the concert. You got your purse back, and everything’s in it. It makes no sense to cry about a mess after it’s been cleaned up.”
    â€œEspecially if crying will stop you from seeing RiRi perform!” Charly agreed, then walked forward and put her arm in the air. They needed a cab.

1
    C harly’s feet couldn’t move her fast enough as she rushed down the aisle, surrounded by men who resembled huge trees, while she watched Lola leading the crew and pushing people out of the way. The lights were dimming, the audience was screaming, and teenagers, most wearing too much perfume or makeup, or not enough clothes, were scattered everywhere except in front of their purchased seats. Charly cringed as she made her way closer to the first row, shaking her head at Lola, who was in front of her, but only by a few feet and with a few different people sandwiched between them. Her breath caught in her throat as anxious adrenaline built inside her. She was sure that at any moment, her evening plans would change. She’d gotten dressed to have a good time, not fight, but she knew that before the night was over and after security stopped escorting her, she’d be mixed up in a brawl-till-you-fall moment. Lola, who was proving herself a fan to the nth degree, had turned into a human bulldozer, shoving concertgoers, one by one, to clear the path.
    â€œC’mon, Charly!” Lola urged, wiping her nose with Kleenex and standing on the side of the front row. She was waving her hand frantically, as if Charly were clear across the auditorium instead of feet behind.
    Charly held a finger to her lips, shushing Lola. The last thing she needed—or wanted—was more attention, and Lola knew it. After the blowup in the sneaker store, how could Lola not get it, she wondered, then corrected her thoughts. It wasn’t like she was some huge celebrity, that’s what Charly kept telling herself. But she had to admit that even though she considered herself just another teen, she wasn’t. Not anymore. She and Lola had been stopped three times in Madison Square Garden’s lobby by fans who’d wanted to take pictures with her and get her autograph before she entered the arena. Hired security, dressed in NYC cop blues, complete with badges, had offered her an escort, then warned her that she could prove to be a security risk if fans kept swarming her when she’d refused. But