P.S. I Loathe You Read Free Page A

ten! We have ah-mazing personalities! And
most
of us have incredible style!” She lifted her eyebrow at Claire, who looked at her primary-red sneakers in shame. “And it was wrong for me to think that boys could resist us. They’re only human, after all.”
    The girls nodded in agreement once again.
    “So I have prepared a pledge poem that will put us back on the right path.” She reached into her winter white Juicy tote and pulled out five platinum Coach key chains. Each one had five purple patent-leather letters dangling off the end: BFFWC. Massie thumbed open the dog-leash clip and hooked it onto the strap of her bag, then handed them out, waiting while everyone else did the same.
    “I know I promised you bracelets, but I saw Strawberry and Kori at the mall buying you-know-whats. So I switched it up at the last minute.” She smirked, then tapped the screen of her new iPhone 3G. “Now check your texts.”
    The girls quickly reached inside their bags, their BFFWC charms swinging about.
    “Does everyone have the new pledge poem?”
    They consulted their in-boxes and nodded.
    “Good.” Massie grinned. “Then grab your charms and let’s recite together in three . . . two . . . one . . .”
    The girls began:
    We swore off boys for ten whole days,
    But it didn’t work so well.
    We acted like backstabbing clichés—
    Ehmagawd! Boyfast was hell.
    But we forgave one another;
    Now we’re back in the groove.
    Sisters, lock up your brothers,
    Because we’re on the move!
    This time we’ll do it right:
    Our friendships come first.
    PC support, day or night,
    Or that member will be cursed.
    So I hereby decree,
    As my open heart gushes,
    We are now BFFWC,
    Best Friends Forever With Crushes!
    “Yayyyyyyyy!” the girls giggle-shouted, then exchanged a round of hugs, with Massie in the center.
    Everything felt right again. Their bond was Teflon-strong.
    “Derr-ing-ton! Derr-ing-ton! Derr-ing-ton!”
    “Who’s ready to find out what all the chanting is about?”
    “Meeeee!” Five hands shot into the pine-scented air.
    Massie smiled proudly, ready to introduce her new leather leggings to the opposite sex.
    This time the Pretty Committee would do it right. This time they would have it all.

BOCD
    SOCCER TRAILERS
    Monday, September 21st
8:19 A.M.
    “Derr-ing-ton! Derr-ing-ton! Derr-ing-ton!”
    Like a supermodel bursting onto a runway amid a cloud of dry ice, Massie led the girls toward the chanting, as if it were all for them. She stepped over Cam’s bike, which lay, wheel still spinning, on a clump of discarded backpacks. All she needed was a snappy one-liner to announce their arrival.
    Hmmm . . . Something about going to school in a trailer park . . . or how they’ll need a can opener to get into their new classrooms.
    Nope. She didn’t quite have it yet.
    “Derr-ing-ton! Derr-ing-ton! Derr-ing-ton!”
    Luckily, the boys were so drawn to the maple tree on their right, they didn’t notice the Pretty Committee standing—
    “Ehma—
butt
!” Massie smacked Alicia’s shoulder. “Look!”
    Dylan burst out laughing.
    Derrington was perched six feet off the ground, squatting on a branch like an ape, with his Volcom jeans around his knees. He was shaking his Paul Frank boxer briefs in front of the projector lens and casting a butt-shaped shadow on Trailer No. 1. The leaves of the maple shook and his friends acted like amused monkeys.
    The LBRs who shared the trailers with the soccer boys ignored him. Instead, they mounted the metal steps to their portable classrooms like court-bound celebrities determined to escape the swarming press.
    “
Magawd
, he’ll do anything to get my attention,” Massie muttered to herself. “What did I ever see in him?”
    Alicia shook her ponytail from side to side like she had no idea.
    “Thank Gawd I like Dempsey now. Double thank Gawd that he’ll be in the main building with us. And triple thank Gawd that he’s not into soccer.”
    “You hardly even
know
Dempsey.” Kristen