The Bookworm's Guide to Faking (The Bookworm's Guide #2) - Emma Hart Page 0,43
do they lose everything but a town? Why do they retain ownership of that?”
“I always assumed it’s because the town wasn’t really worth anything, but I don’t know. I’m not a tax lawyer. Or the FBI, for that matter.” She popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “Although I probably could be in another life.”
“Right. Okay.” A few more minutes passed, and I said, “So if they own the town, why is the mayor such an asshole? Don’t they own him?”
She blew out a long breath. “I’ve never really thought of that. I guess the ownership of the town and council are separate entities.”
I stared at her. “Wow. You really need some reality in your life.”
Holley blinked at me. “Why on Earth would I subject myself to reality when fiction is so much happier?”
“Because otherwise you’ll go insane?”
“Given that I’m lying here with you, I’m already there,” she finished on a whisper. She tossed the popcorn bag on the floor next to the bed and snuggled down under the covers, drawing them right up under her chin. “Now, shh.”
With a roll of my eyes, I dug my hand into the Doritos.
“I said shh, Sebastian!”
That was the end of my snack session, then.
I put the bag on the nightstand and licked my fingers clean of the Dorito dust, then joined her under the covers. There wasn’t much left for me—she was pretty much wrapped up like a little burrito, and I had to tug on it and unravel her a little.
She squeaked and huffed as she readjusted herself and tucked herself in again. I adjusted my pillow so I was comfortable and frowned at the TV pretty much for the entirety of the remainder of the episode.
I had no idea what was really going on here.
My sister loved this show. Hell, my mother loved this show, but I’d really never had any desire to watch it.
“I have no idea what’s going on,” I muttered.
Holley sighed. “I’m not explaining it again. It’s like English class all over again.”
I grinned. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Oh, come on!” She looked up at me, and I realized she no longer wore any makeup.
Somehow, her eyes seemed even brighter than usual.
“I basically wrote half your essays for you. I did all the research, and the one time we had to do a group project and we weren’t together, you failed.”
I fought a smile. “I didn’t fail the second time around when she let me resubmit my paper.”
“Because I helped you!” She nudged her foot into my shin under the covers. “I had to explain everything about ten times because you never listened!”
“Hey! That’s unfair. I listened to you.”
“No, you checked sports scores, did extra practice, went to games…”
“Who had to help who in math?”
“My brain isn’t wired for numbers!” Her voice was a little shrill. “It’s not my fault! Besides, I would have passed without your help. Eventually.”
“Yeah, right, okay.”
“What?”
“Holley, do you remember that practice test? You got two questions right. Out of fifty.”
She blinked up at me, her dark eyelashes brushing her skin, and said, “It is not my fault the new Twilight book came out that week.”
“It is your fault you read that book instead of your textbook.”
“Mm, hot werewolves and vampires or algebra? Oh, such a tough choice.”
“It really shouldn’t have been.”
“Well, I don’t like math and I do like books, so…” The covers moved in what looked like a shrug. “It’s really not that hard to figure out.”
“There you go, then. I like sports and not English. It’s not hard to see why I almost failed.”
“Do you know what amazes me?” She tilted her head back to peer up at me again. “You could barely read an assignment question in high school, but you’ve read Game of Thrones. I could barely get through Game of Thrones.”
“Really? All that judgement and you can’t even read it?”
“Hey, I can read it! It’s just a lot of words. They’re big books. I needed palate cleaners.”
“What did you use? Twilight?”
“Nope. Murder mysteries.” Her grin held a spark of evil.
I narrowed my eyes. “I think I might sleep on the sofa after all.”
Laughing, she reached for her bottle of water and sat up just enough to drink from it. “Stop it. I’m not going to kill you.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yeah. I don’t have my car and my tarp is in the trunk, so…”
I grabbed one of the stupid girly throw cushions they always put on these beds and swung it in her direction.