Perfect Chemistry 1 by Simone Elkeles Read Free Book Online Page A

the pit of my stomach when I read Alex's words about having
    hot sex. Little does he know I'm a virgin.
    Colin and I have never had sex, period. Phone sex or real sex. We
    got close in April last year at the beach behind Sierra's house, but I
    chickened out. I wasn't ready.
    "Phone sex?"
    "Yeah. Touch yourself, Brit. And then tell me what you're doing.
    It'll totally turn me on."
    "While I'm touching myself, what'll you be doing?" I ask him.
    "Choking the gopher. What'd you think I'd do, my homework?"
    I laugh. Mostly it's a nervous laugh because we haven't seen each
    other in a couple of months, we haven't talked all that much, and now
    he wants to go from ‘hi, nice to see you after a summer apart’ to ‘touch
    yourself while I choke the gopher’ in one day. I feel like I'm in the
    middle of a Pat McCurdy song.
    "Come on, Brit," Colin says. "Think of it as practice before we do
    the real thing. Take off your shirt and touch yourself."
    "Colin . . . ," I say.
    "What?"
    "Sorry, but I'm not into it. Not now, at least."
    "You sure?"
    "Yeah. You mad?"
    "No," he says. "I thought it'd be fun to spice up our relationship."
    "I didn't know we were boring."
    "School . . . football practice . . . hanging out. I guess after a
    summer away I'm sick of the same old routine. The entire summer I've
    been waterskiing, wakeboarding, and off-roading. Things that get your
    heart racing and blood pumping, you know? Pure adrenaline rush."
    "Sounds awesome."
    "It was. Brit?"
    "Yeah."
    "I'm ready for that adrenaline rush . . . with you."
    EIGHT : Alex
    I push the guy up against a sweet, shiny black Camaro, one that
    probably cost more than my mom makes in a year. "Here's the deal,
    Blake," I say. "You either pay up now, or I break somethin' of yours.
    Not a piece of furniture or your fuckin' car . . . somethin' you're
    permanently attached to. Get it?"
    Blake, skinnier than a telephone pole and as pale as a ghost, is
    looking at me as if I just handed him his death sentence. He should
    have thought about that before he took the Big 8 and bounced without
    paying up.
    As if Hector would ever let that happen.
    As if I would ever let that happen.
    When Hector sends me to collect, I do it. I may not like doing it,
    but I do it. He knows I won't do drug deals or break into people's
    homes or businesses to steal shit. But I'm good at collecting . . . debts,
    mostly.
    Sometimes it's people, but those get to be messy affairs,
    especially because I know what's gonna happen to them once I haul
    them back to the warehouse to face Chuy. Nobody wants to face Chuy.
    It's way worse than facing me. Blake should feel lucky I'm the one
    assigned to look for him.
    To say I don't live a squeaky-clean life is an understatement. I try
    not to dwell on it, the dirty job I'm doing for the Blood. And I'm good
    at it. Scaring people into paying us what's ours is my job. Technically
    my hands are clean of drugs. Okay, so drug money does touch my hands
    quite frequently, but I just hand it over to Hector. I don't use it, I
    just collect it.
    It makes me a pawn, I know. As long as my family is safe, I don't
    care. Besides, I'm good at fighting. You can't imagine how many people
    break down with the threat of their bones breaking. Blake is no
    different than the other guys I've threatened, I can tell by the way
    he's trying to act cool while his spindly hands are shaking
    uncontrollably.
    You'd think Peterson would be afraid of me, too, but that teacher
    wouldn't fear me even if I shoved a live grenade into her hands.
    "I don't got the money," Blake blurts out.
    "That answer ain't gonna cut it, man," Paco chimes in from the
    sidelines. He likes coming with me. He thinks of it as playing good cop/
    bad cop. Except we play bad gang member/worse gang member.
    "Which limb you want me to break first?" I ask. "I'll be nice and let
    you choose."
    "Just smoke his sorry ass, Alex, and get this over with," Paco says
    lazily.
    "No!" Blake shouts. "I'll get it. I promise. Tomorrow."
    I