The Elite by Jennifer Banash Read Free Book Online Page A

slap in the face. Why did Manhattan have to be so goddamn hot in the summer? And why did Madison have to look so sexy in that microscopic bikini? On the plane to Amsterdam, he’d had all these fantasies about the way his summer would surely pan out. He’d closed his eyes and pictured himself hanging out in smoky cafés with gorgeous, slightly mysterious Eu ro pe an babes who smoked endless Gauloises and flirted shamelessly with him over coffee, their red lips leaving behind precise crimson imprints on chipped porcelain cups. It would be just like Before Sunrise —one of his favorite movies. He’d buy a Eurail pass and meet his own Julie Delpy somewhere outside of Budapest, the landscape flying by the sun- dappled train window in a blur of green and brown. They’d exchange heated glances in the dining car over a lunch of awful, overcooked steak, and tolerable red wine.
    In actuality, his trip turned out to be more like Hostel . All the girls he met were definitely gorgeous, but totally fake—
    they only seemed to be into him because he was American.
    One French girl begged repeatedly to visit him in New York, and when he said “maybe,” she then asked if they might be able to walk to the Grand Canyon—as if this were even remotely possible. She also seemed convinced that America was the Wild West, and asked him countless times if everyone carried guns and wore cowboy hats. And the Dutch girls he met had never even heard of Woody Allen, his favorite filmmaker of all time. Just thinking about it depressed Drew beyond belief.
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    J E N N I F E R B A N A S H
    When he first saw Madison lying there on the grass in the park—a spot they’d sat in countless times talking about school, parents, their futures, and each other, he didn’t know what to say. Her green eyes were hidden behind those enormous sunglasses that every girl rocked these days—the kind that usually made you look like a mosquito. But Madison just looked . . .
    hot—and totally distant. He’d broken into that stupid Australian safari routine because he just didn’t know what to say .
    Before he left for Eu rope, he’d thought that if he put enough distance between them, the awkwardness of that night would fade into the past like a bad dream, eventually morphing into something they could someday joke about—like everything else. And the only way he knew how to deal with uncomfortable situations was by making stupid jokes or walking away.
    Why did he have to be so good at both?
    That night in the park, she was so beautiful he could hardly stand it—he thought he might jump out of his skin if he didn’t get to touch her. If only he hadn’t blown it by drinking so much. But when she whispered in his ear that she wanted him in her bed, he started shaking and couldn’t seem to stop. It was highly embarrassing. He thought the champagne would help, but it just made things even worse. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He’d had a chance that every other guy within a hundred- mile radius would’ve killed for—and he’d totally blown it.
    Drew walked down Park Avenue, nodded at Enrico, the doorman standing at the curb in front of his building, and pushed through the revolving glass doors, the sweat drying on 4 6

    T H E E L I T E
    his back with the sudden blast of frigid air. He only started flirting with that Casey girl to make Mad jealous, but the more she talked, the more he found himself actually liking her—the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, the way her blond hair hung in ringlets around her open, rounded face.
    And he really felt like he should help her out, being the new girl and all. Drew still hadn’t gotten over how much his life had changed when his family moved what was really only a few dozen city blocks. He couldn’t imagine what the culture shock would be like for someone coming from any farther away.
    Coming here from Brooklyn would be like traveling to Mars.
    At least he had gone from a seven- figure Soho