Vicious Little Darlings Read Free

feel—thick, soft, slightly damp. And what would it be like to kiss him? Warm. Warm and rough.
    But I shouldn’t be thinking about stuff like this. Sebastian is Maddy’s boyfriend, not mine.
    He plugs his iPod into the car stereo. Josh Groban. Singing in Italian. Kill me now. Sebastian starts singing along, and he’s got this blissful look on his face. “I love Spanish music,” he says.
    This is Italian , I want to say. But I can’t because now I’m perversely intrigued by Sebastian. Yes, he’s cheesy, but he’s cheesy in such a fresh, weird way. I think I’m in love.
    Or not.
    Sebastian drops us off two blocks from the restaurant; it’s easier for him to get on the highway. He’s quite the gentleman.
    â€œNice meeting you,” I say, and jump out of the car before he can respond.
    It takes Maddy another five minutes to extricate herself from the pimpmobile. As I’m standing outside, the car windows start to fog up. When Maddy finally opens her door, she’s got bed hair and an embarrassed look on her face. Before she can step out of the car, Sebastian leans over and licks her face—is he trying to be a dog or a Neanderthal?—and Maddy’s embarrassment quickly turns to annoyance. Even I’m annoyed just having to watch this.
    Maddy climbs out of the car, eyes lowered, face pink.
    â€œLove you, babe,” says Sebastian. “You’re my girl.” He blows her a kiss.
    â€œLove you too,” Maddy says, shutting the door.
    We hear a muffled “ ¡Adiós, chicas! ” before the car screeches away from the curb.
    Maddy smooths down her hair with one hand and wipes her cheek with the back of the other. “Sorry about that.”
    â€œ No problemo ,” I say in a mock Spanish accent, instantly regretting it.
    After an awkward silence, Maddy lets out a tiny laugh. “You’re funny,” she says, and we begin our walk toward civilization.
    She tells me that the town of Wetherly is basically this one long, dull street. Beyond it, the roads lead to forestland and open space. Depressing. We pass a used bookstore, a tea shop, an ice cream parlor, and several restaurants, all of which appear to be closed. When we finally arrive at Antonio’s, I’m not exactly shocked to find it closed as well.
    â€œShoot,” Maddy says, “it’s Sunday.”
    â€œSo?” Through the restaurant window I see a ceiling-high wine rack and pillar-candle chandeliers.
    â€œTown closes on Sundays.”
    My stomach growls. “All of it?”
    â€œMost of it. Anyway, don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll find a place,” Maddy says. “Let’s keep walking. I think I see something up ahead. See that blue light?”
    I nod, and we walk toward the light.
    It hits me that I haven’t seen a single guy since Sebastian. I know Wetherly is a women’s college, but does that mean the town is all-female as well? Because I don’t think I could survive in a place where there aren’t any men. I’ve never even had any female friends. I usually try to avoid girls because I’m afraid of them. When guys are mad at each other, they duke it out and then forget about it, but when a girl is mad at you, she’ll ruin your life. That’s exactly what happened to me when Brad Taylor’s frigid and super-popular girlfriend, Sophie, found out I’d slept with him. She and her girl posse stole my backpack, egged Nana’s Oldsmobile, and smeared dog shit on our front door. They terrorized me until I stopped going to school. Luckily, Nana was oblivious to my ditching, and my teachers just thought I had premature senioritis.
    We stop in front of a pub where a man (finally!) in jeans and a black leather jacket is guarding the door. He’s bald and muscular, and he lets us in without checking our IDs.
    Inside, the place is packed. Maddy slides into a round red-leather booth, and I scooch in