The Perfectionists by Sara Shepard Read Free Book Online Page B

girls. She just wanted to put that whole project—and what it had led to—behind her. She knew it was unfair, but if it hadn’t been for those girls and that one conversation, everything would be different. She wouldn’t have gotten a C. She wouldn’t be racked by guilt.
    And Nolan, maybe, wouldn’t be dead.

CHAPTER FIVE
    FRIDAY NIGHT, JULIE REDDING WALKED up to Matthew Hill’s house. Although the house was large and stately, and well stocked with beer and the typical party snacks, it didn’t even begin to compare with Nolan Hotchkiss’s bash last week.
    Julie shivered, dark memories wafting back to her. But she forced them away just as quickly. She definitely didn’t want to think about Nolan right now.
    She shouldered through the gate to the back patio, feeling that same buzz in her chest she got before every party. Will this one go okay? What if someone sees through me? What if someone guesses? So she did what she always did, a calming trick she’d read about years ago in a book called The Zen Master’s Guide to Calm : She counted, she breathed, she tried to quiet her mind. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Then she shook out her hands, took a deep breath, and pasted her brightest smile on her face. The party smile. The I’m-Julie-and-everyone-loves-me smile.
    The heavy thud of a dubstep track pulsed, punctuated by laughter and squeals. The stone fountain was already full of discarded red Solo cups, along with someone’s iPhone. A couple of kids sat on lawn chairs talking intensely, the smoke of their clove cigarettes coiling around them. As people saw Julie, they waved, their faces brightening.
    â€œYou look amazing!” cooed Renata Thomas, a waifish girl who captained the gymnastics team.
    â€œJules!” said Helene Robinson from chemistry class, giving her a huge hug. Three other girls hugged her next. She inhaled their fruity-smelling hair and accepted their loving squeezes. By the time she’d made it inside the house, it seemed like the whole party had greeted her.
    Julie’s pulse began to slow. Of course it was going to be fine. She didn’t need to worry. No one was going to figure out all the things she was hiding. Everyone adored her, and it was going to stay that way.
    Early on she’d learned how to make people admire her. It’d come in handy over the years—because if they were busy noticing how fun she was, how stylish she was, how sweet she was, they didn’t have time to notice that there were some things about her that were a little . . . off. How she never had anyone to her house. How people didn’t even know where she lived. But that didn’t matter, because Julie was a benevolent queen bee, unlike a lot of the rich, snobby students at Beacon Heights High. She made it easy for people to like her—and so they did.
    â€œOh my god, Julie!” cried a voice, breaking Julie from her thoughts. “We’re twinsies! How crazy is that?”
    Julie stared into the eyes of Ashley Ferguson, a junior at Beacon and the one person whom she found it very, very hard to be nice to.
    At least, Julie thought it was Ashley—eerily, it was kind of like she was looking in a mirror. The two girls were about the same height and weight, and Ashley had recently dyed her hair to almost the exact auburn of Julie’s. She also used the same glittery nut-brown shadow on her eyelids and the same neutral gloss on her lips. And tonight— how , Julie wasn’t sure—she was wearing the same BCBG dress Julie had on. Their shoes were different—Ashley’s looked like Jimmy Choos, while Julie wore a pair of Nine West sling-backs she’d gotten on sale.
    It wasn’t unusual for girls to copy Julie’s style. If Julie wore blue glitter nail polish on a Friday, by Monday half the school would be wearing it, too. Usually it made her feel special, powerful, but with Ashley, Julie just felt