Curved by Samantha Strokes Read Free Book Online Page B

next week with the campus jocks: it was ordained to be a sexy summer meet-and-greet cookout. “Make the paper plates and cups eco-friendly, and we can tie in some of the environmental dudes across the hall. Plus, let’s remember that the football team and some of the fraternities will appreciate us more if we go high quality.”
     
    As I stared into my audience of ten or so girls, I became immediately frightened. They kept glancing to one another, their eyes collectively settling on me like pelted rocks.
     
    “Actually,” Zena said, smiling mischievously, “we moved up the event very recently. It was a group decision.”
     
    Angela mouthed the words “ I’m sorry” to me.
     
    “When was this decided?” I said.
     
    “About an hour ago?” Zena said. The other girls glanced back my way, some of them clearly empathetic to my situation. “Anyway, it’s fine if you can’t show up. Not everyone can make all the meetings—we have equally busy personal lives, right?” The girls nodded in lukewarm agreement. “You’re always so busy with that investment banking internship anyway.”
     
    “Yeah, anyway,” Ricarda added. Unnecessarily, I might say.
     
    Since these two derived their pleasure from getting a rise out of me, I had to stand my ground. I remained at the front of the room, even as my girls packed their things.
     
    We had been planning the meet-and-greet for weeks. Now, it was all unraveling before my eyes. I’d hoped to snag myself a hot guy, honestly. Have myself a fun escapade in the night with Angela.
     
    “You can come to the next one,” Zena said, knowing very well there wouldn’t be any more for the rest of the semester—we would all be going home soon. “Your friend tried texting you, by the way.”
     
    One of the girls left silently, not even looking back. I sighed.
     
    Sitting next to Angela, I had no more words.
     
    “I’m really sorry,” Angela whispered. “I really did try to reach you…”
     
    “I had a quiz,” I said. “This is like complete mutiny.”
     
    It had always been that way though. Zena and Ricarda simply couldn’t tolerate me as their president. They would drive Manhattan’s Concern into the ground before handing me the reins.
     
    “We’ll see you later,” Zena said, knocking on the door as she walked out. “Ricarda?”
     
    Ricarda followed her like a dog. “See you later,” she said.
     
    Rolling my eyes, I slumped back in my chair. In only a matter of minutes, I would have to leave and go find wherever it was that Joseph lived.
     
    “They can be so bitchy,” Angela said. “Hey, at least you won’t have to see them after the semester.”
     
    “I’m so glad,” I said. “They just exist to make my life miserable, don’t they?”
     
    Angela patted my back. “Come on, we’ve got to get you back to your place so you can dress up. I don’t think Joseph wants his women in jeans.”

 
    Chapter 8

 
    At my place, Angela crashed on my bed. Lindsay, who looked like she was snorting cocaine in the bathroom, came out holding a vial of nail polish. My nail polish. “Hope you don’t mind,” she said, stumbling to the other side. Angela arched her eyebrows at Lindsay, cocking her thumb towards the greasy black film covering her nails. Good thing I got rid of that polish, but still? It was in the garbage. Seriously?
     
    Roommates. Ugh!
     
    Lindsay clapped her hands at me. “Very sexy,” she said. I turned around in my A-line skirt, by the window again. “Why don’t you move aside for a moment?” Lindsay spread her fingers over my image. “Sorry, the light’s better here.”
     
    Pushing her aside gently, I flattened the front of my skirt, and with Angela’s assistance, I slipped into a blousey crop top. On a subconscious level, I probably wanted to look my best for Joseph. Being ugly was difficult in my mind. Growing up poor had left a bad, lingering feeling about how people saw those “lesser” than them.
     
    “Well,” Angela