Invisible Read Free Page A

and together we watched my nemesis, Scott Fraser, walk over. All five feet eleven inches of rumpled hotness in black Converse sneakers, dark blue jeans, a slightly wrinkled black T-shirt, and a gray jacket, with his ever-present Nikon in hand. “Scott, Jane is your new assignment.”
    His green eyes were speckled with brown, and he made no attempt to hide his derision.
    â€œLucky me.”
    He went heavy on the sarcasm.
    Lisa Anne shrugged. “Well, you’re in charge of making sure she doesn’t bomb, since I don’t have time to babysit. The issue goes out on Tuesday. So do whatever is necessary to make this work.” She turned back to me. “Don’t forget, Grammar Girl, screw this up and you’ll never write for The Smithsonian again.” She smiled. “No pressure.”
    I was so dead.

Chapter 3
    â€œS o what’s your angle?”
    I couldn’t get over the weirdness of sitting across from Scott Fraser, as if nothing had happened between us. As if I hadn’t tried to befriend him when he transferred from some private school in Los Angeles . . . only to be stabbed in the back when he told Lisa Anne, “Jane? She doesn’t have what it takes to become a reporter.”
    Direct quote.
    I guess if you’re an attractive seventeen-year-old guy with a talent for photography you can blow off the geeks as soon as you get settled in. That’s probably how Scott viewed the situation, anyway. Not that I called him out on the whole “she doesn’t have what it takes” thing. Isobel was right: I’m not good with confrontation.
    So I didn’t stalk over and yell: How do you know I can’t hack it as a reporter? I haven’t written so much as a muffin review! Thanks a lot for trashing me, jerk!
    Instead, I did a silent 180-degree turn and headed straight to the library without saying a word. The worst part was that I had honestly thought we were becoming friends. That’s why I had arrived early to our journalism class, to see if he wanted to hang out with Corey, Kenzie, and me in Portland. I thought he might enjoy a brief respite from the boredom that is life in Forest Grove. I was just about to invite him when I overheard him talking to Lisa Anne. I fled without being noticed at all, because even in the midst of a verbal trashing, I was still a freaking master at the art of invisibility.
    Too bad I felt like crap.
    Still, I had wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Even though the likelihood that Scott would apologize and explain that it was all just one big misunderstanding . . . not exactly good betting odds. I mean, part of me knew that was never going to happen. Not in this lifetime.
    I just hadn’t wanted to accept it.
    At the time, Kenzie’s fame was skyrocketing, and it was just starting to sink in that no matter how her newfound notoriety worked out, nothing would be the same again. The American public would either love her or mock her mercilessly, but in either scenario, the spotlight would follow her every move.
    Relegating me back into the shadows.
    That’s why I had hoped that the whole thing with Scott had been blown out of proportion in my head. I didn’t want to believe anything bad about my one new friend—someone who hadn’t known me since elementary school, who didn’t care about my sister’s popularity, who never treated me like the pathetic sidekick.
    I couldn’t have been more wrong about the creep.
    Turns out the reason he spent his first week at Smith High School fiddling on Photoshop next to me had nothing to do with my wit, my personality, or my dimpled grin. He had only pretended to like me because he wanted access to Kenzie.
    I should’ve guessed as much from the very beginning.
    Instead, I was blindsided when Lisa Anne congratulated him publicly on his amazing photo of my best friend, frozen in fear, as the media mobbed her. The one he must have snapped the day I attempted