Pants on Fire by Meg Cabot Read Free Book Online

I had all but forgotten the entire incident at the beach—not to mention Liam’s alarming news. Not because I’d been concentrating on thinking about bacillus instead, but because Seth, who’d met me there so we could sit in his truck before my shift, kept telling me how great I’d looked in my bikini (I knew the bike thing would pay off). He told me what a great year we were going to have—our senior year—and how good we were going to look when we were crowned Prom King and Queen.
    Which, I’ll admit, is kind of a cheesy thing to say. Seth and I do have actual intellectual conversations from time to time. Well, intellectual might be stretching it. But every once in a while I’ll drag Seth to a photography show in the city, and try to explain the images to him, why they work or don’t work, in my opinion.
    And, okay, usually we just end up making out in some park or whatever.
    But Seth’s more like the strong, silent type. He’s just a really good person.
    Which is why, you know, I can never break up with him. Because that would be mean, and I’m not a mean girl.
    Which is why even after the Prom King and Queen remark, one thing led to another, and soon we were making out in the cab of his four by four…even though itwas broad daylight and I had a six-hour shift looming ahead of me.
    It’s just very hard to worry about some guy you haven’t spoken to in four years when some other guy’s tongue is in your mouth. Especially when it happens to be Seth Turner’s tongue, which is probably the most sought-after tongue in all of Eastport. At least, among teenage girls. And some of the boys, too.
    It wasn’t until I got out of Seth’s truck and biked to the back of the restaurant, to the employee entrance, that I saw that Eric Fluteley was waiting for me over by the bike rack.
    So of course I had to chastise him again for the whole Morgan Castle thing. Which wasn’t easy to do while simultaneously making out with him, but I managed. My mom says I’ve always had an amazing knack for multitasking, which is why I get such good grades while still being able to have a decent social life and all, and that even when I was a little kid I could watch TV, color, and make a cake in my Easy-Bake Oven all at the same time.
    Which isn’t so different, if you think about it, than making out with a guy while telling him what a no-good, lying dog he is at the same time.
    I think there must be something wrong with me. I mean, why do I need TWO boyfriends to be happy? Sidney seems totally content with just one.
    Although, truthfully, sometimes I suspect that I’m not all that happy. Not even with two boyfriends.
    I know, I know. Selfish, right? Most girls would diefor ONE boyfriend, and I have TWO, and I’m still complaining.
    Yeah. There’s definitely something wrong with me.
    I punched in at the Gull ’n Gulp precisely as my shift was starting (because I can make out and still keep one eye on my watch), and was soon so busy that I didn’t have time to think about the Seth/Eric situation…let alone the whole Tommy Sullivan thing, and whether or not he was back in town. By six, five of the tables in my section were full, including two eight-tops—a senior citizen tour bus making its way up the coast. I barely had time to breathe . I definitely didn’t have time to worry about amber-eyed redheads with washboard stomachs and low-slung swim trunks who may or may not be seeking revenge on me for the wrong I’d done them in the eighth grade.
    It wasn’t until I went to give the tour bus tables’ drink orders to Shaniqua (since I’m underage, I can only take orders for, not serve, alcoholic beverages, which at the Gull ’n Gulp is only beer and wine) that Jill breezed by and said, “Oh, Katie, did that guy find you?”
    “What guy?” I asked. It was already seven o’clock, and the place was packed—and noisy. Peggy has Wednesdays off, so we were cranking the tunes back in the kitchen, and it was hard to hear anything