Kiss And Blog by ALSON NOËL Read Free Book Online Page A

at the mall or anything.
    “Listen,” she says, looking at me for practically the first time since I got here. “I’m really sorry about all that stuff that happened back there.”
    “Yeah, well, you didn’t look all that sorry at the time,” I say, shaking my head and refusing to look at her now. I mean, I know we made a pact, and basically spent the entire summer planning and plotting and dreaming of having a moment just like that. But now that it’s happened, I have to admit that it really wasn’t all that great. In fact, it actually kind of sucked. And I’m starting to wonder if maybe we should just sit down and rethink all this, and try to get out while we still can.
    But apparently Sloane is not on the same page, because she just looks at me and says, “You so don’t get it, Winter. It’s not like Jaci actually meant any of that stuff, it—it was more like a test, like an initiation or something. You know, like when you pledge a sorority and they test your loyalty level before they decide to let you in. It was totally innocent, harmless even! They were just trying to see if you could handle hanging out with them, because obviously not everyone’s up for it. Believe me, they did something very similar to me right before you showed up.” She nods, her eyes searching my face, trying to see if I believe her.
    I look at her, wondering if that really is true, or if she’s just trying to make me feel better. Or, even more likely, if she’s just trying to make
them
look better.
    ”Just be glad they didn’t make you steal something, too,” she says, retrieving a brand-new Chanel black eyeliner pencil from her purse and holding it up in offering. “Want it?” She looks at me, shrugging her slim shoulders.
    “Um, no thanks,” I say, turning to see my mom pulling into the parking lot.
    “You’re not going to say anything are you?” she asks, dropping it back in her purse, suddenly sounding all scared and nervous, and a lot more like the Sloane I’ve known for the last eight years. The one who never ignored me, who was never mean to me, and who certainly didn’t steal stuff just to impress someone.
    “To who, Sloane? Who would I say something to?” I ask, feeling sad and tired and totally sick of playing these weird little head games. I mean, everything’s so different now, but not in the way I thought it would be. And to be honest, it kind of makes me miss my old life, where everything was just so much easier and way less complicated. It’s even making me wonder if I was actually happier than I realized. Because now, standing next to Sloane and her stupid stolen Le Crayon Yeux, I feel kind of depressed.
    I just wish everything could go back to how it was before.
    But that’s probably only because I know it’s too late.
    “Okay, well, if it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure you passed. I mean, after Ron Herman, they basically left you alone, right? And I know you heard how they all said ‘See you tomorrow’ when they were heading toward Saks. Because believe me, if they didn’t like you, they wouldn’t have said anything,” she says, just as my mom pulls up next to the curb in her rarely driven Prius.
    “Yeah, and what does that mean? What do I get for surviving that kind of emotional hazing?” I ask, opening the passenger door, and peering at her, watching as her face breaks into a big, triumphant smile.
    “What do you think? Popularity!” she says, her face all lit up as she climbs into the back.

 
    Five
     
    I gotta admit, the next morning as I’m making my way to Dietrich’s, I’m feeling kind of nervous about seeing Sloane. I mean, that whole mall episode with the stealing and the mean little comments just felt so freaking weird that I’m seriously having second thoughts about our plan. And I’m wondering if maybe we should think about scheduling a nice, cordial, sit- down conference, where we can rehash this whole thing, admit where we may have gone wrong, and then don