Brutal Precious (Lovely Vicious #3) by Sara Wolf Read Free Book Online

the vases, and the crystal light fixtures look like seaweed suspended in ice.
    "I've never been here," I say. "It's nice."
    "Oh, dont lie."
    A cold jolt runs down my spine and into my butt. It is mildly unpleasent. "What?"
    Kayla sips tea. "Jack told me you stalked us on our date."
    "That was only because he was, objectively, a nasty-faced pus-butt bug-eater, and I had to -"
    "I know you paid him to take me out." She interrupts. I gape like a particularily mute fish. "It's fine. I'm over it. That seems like so long ago."
    "You -" I swallow. "You aren't super pissed?"
    "Why would I be? It was one of the best nights of my life."
    "When did he -"
    "The night we broke up. The morning after Avery's party, when she -"
    When she locked Wren and a drugged Kayla in a room. I don't say that, though, and it really doesn't need to be said. Kayla shakes her hair out.
    "It was when you and Wren went to kick Avery's ass. Jack and I talked about a lot of things. That was one of them. He came clean."
    "I never did. Shit, I never did," I say instantly. "And I'm really sorry -"
    "Don't be, idiot." She kicks me under the table. "It's over and it was a long time ago, and anyway I'd forgive you for anything. Short of killing my brother. And maybe I'd even forgive you for that, depending on how much he'd spit up on me that week."
    Our spring rolls arrive, and I drown my gratitude in sprouts and poser meat made out of innocent bean curds. Kayla talks about Massachusetts, and all the places she's going to visit with Wren. The East Coast will suit her - she's gorgeous and tan and tall and a big city is all but required, so that the maximum amount of peons will be able to bask in her splendor as she blooms into the most beautiful woman in the world, and eventually, the Queen of Westeros.
    "I don't even like Game of Thrones," she offers. "Everyone is too white."
    The books have less white people, and she would know this if she read more often.
    "I've been reading War and Peace."
    Correction: she'd know this if she read better, not-dumb books more often.
    "Oh my god you're a snob. I'm best friends with a book snob."
    I flip my hair and order stir-fried rice. Kayla orders coconut curry. Somewhere outside a man yells "FUCK" and another man yells "STOP" but we never see them. It is all very dramatic. Kayla picks at her nails, a somber look replacing her faint exasperated joy.
    "I'm going to miss you, snob."
    I reach across the table and put my hand over hers.
    "I'll always be with you," I say. She smiles, and I continue. "As a pair of disembodied eyes. Watching your buttocks with great admiration slash envy slash protective maternal instinct."  
    "Ew."  
    "Wren won't know what hit him when I materialize out of thin air on your first get-it-on night and sock him in the mouth."
    Kayla glares.
    "Softly. Sock him in the mouth softly," I correct. "With my pinky."
    Our food arrives and we eat like starved hyenas, which is an improvement, because on the ladder of voracious eaters teenage girls are just below great white sharks and above starved hyenas, which means we are actually behaving ourselves. The waitress doesn't seem to think so, and wrinkles her nose when she takes away our dishes, the rings of food left behind like halos of glory. And indigestion. I duck into the bathroom for a second to wash my face free of peanut sauce. And it's then the memories come flooding back with a particularly heinous venegeance. Jack leaned against that counter. Jack touched that sink. Jack touched my face for the first time while he stood where the counter and the wall met. Jack's in every tile of this bathroom, and I can't escape it.
    And I don't want to.
    He might be missing, gone from my life like a ghost, but here? He's still here. I can envision his tall frame here. I can close my eyes and be in the past again.
    It's just a dumb bathroom in a try-hard Thai restaurant. But to me, it's so much more.
    I wash my face and stare in the mirror.
    This is the last dinner Kayla