A Tale of Two Pretties by Lisi Harrison Read Free Book Online

you on a scale from Claire to Alicia?”
    “I’m about a Kristen after a full day at Massie’s pool, SPF four.”
    “Nice.” She giggled.
    “Listen, Kristen, I need some advice and my battery’s about to die so…”
    “Sure, what’s up?”
    “What would you do if you had a big secret—like, really huh-yuge—but you were obligated to keep it quiet even though you were
     dying to tell someone?”
    “Ahem,” a male voice said over her, his breath smelling like salsa. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation just now.”
    “Who is that?” Kristen asked. “Are you visiting your dad?”
    Dylan thumbed around for the END button and disconnected the call.
    “I hope you’re not in breach of the confidentiality contract.” Dylan recognized the voice. It was the mysterious producer
     who always shouted “Back to one” and “Let’s try that again!” over the PA system. Dylan fought to catch a glimpse of him, but
     her lids were no match for the super-stick grip of Nicolette’s tape.
    “Who, me?” Dylan asked, wondering how one feigned shock without the use of her eyes. “No. I was running lines with my drama
     partner. We’re doing
Secret Life of Bees
and, um, I play the bee with the secret.”
    “Well, in the end, I hope your bee decides to keep the secret, or the whole hive will come crashing down on her,” he said
     with a final blast of salsa.
    “Don’t worry.” Dylan forced a smile.
    Of course, if the hive didn’t crush her, the weight of this secret surely would.

THE GUESTHOUSE
CLAIRE’S ROOM
Sunday, December 26th
5:27 P.M.
    Claire’s room had become a “before” scene in an episode of
Hoarders
. Claire brushed aside her bangs, opened her closet door, and began pulling clothes. There was already a big lump of “donate
     before the PC finds out I wore these,” a small mound of “could wear while studying,” and a midsized pile of “new house–worthy.”
     But there was still so much to do. How was she supposed to get it all packed and organized in less than a week?
    Massie burst into Claire’s room with a box of her own. Her amber eyes, red and watery, took in the chaos. “Kuh-laire, it’s
     so ah-dorable of you to get rid of your ugly things to make room for my cute ones.” She kicked aside a PowerPuff Girls nightgown.
     “Just for that I grant you complete wardrobe access. It’s a good thing I’m moving in.”
    “Moving in?” Claire screeched. “I thought you were just sleeping over. You know, tonight.”
    “Puh-lease. Look outside.” Massie led her to the window. A baggage claim’s worth of luggage sat on the lawn outside the guesthouse.
     “Would I bring all of that for one night?”
    Claire managed to smile. “Probably.”
    “Isn’t that why you’re cleaning out your closets?”
    “Of course,” Claire lied, nervously tugging on the zipper ofher light blue hoodie. “Why else would I be doing all of this?”
    How could she possibly tell Massie she’d be abandoning her in her greatest moment of need? The girl looked more fragile than
     those wide-eyed Precious Moments figurines Grandma Lyons collected.
    “Question for you,” Massie began, gripping Claire with the intensity of her glare. “Any chance you told Dylan about my…” She
     hesitated, as if her next words might detonate and trigger an explosion. “… my
secret
?”
    “No!” Claire crossed her fingers over her heart, twice. “I swear.”
    Massie cocked her head.
    “Swear on your life?”
    Claire lifted her palm. “Swear on my life.”
    “Your mom’s life?”
    “Swear.”
    “Dad’s?”
    “Swear.”
    “Todd’s?”
    “Easy. Swear,” she joked, but Massie still wasn’t convinced.
    “What about…” Massie tapped her chin, looked up, and then swooped her glare back down for what she obviously assumed was the
     billion-dollar question. “What about
Cam’s
?”
    “Swear.”
    “Say it.”
    “I swear.”
    “All of it.”
    “I swear on Cam’s life I did not tell Dylan, or