Pretty Reckless (All Saints High #1) - L.J. Shen Page 0,68

year. Call me Petty McPetterson, but after the latest string of treacheries, addressing Melody directly is off the table. Just before I hit send, the passenger door opens and Via slides in. She is wearing one of my favorite outfits. A gray floral print maxi dress from Neiman Marcus. A far cry from the potato sack she wore yesterday.

Awaiting explanation, I eye her, long and thoroughly.

You will not lose your shit, Daria. Especially as her twin brother just deflowered you and hinted at you going steady.

“Oh, this?” She runs a hand over the dress. “Melody told me to pick anything I wanted.”

I’m surprised she can cram so much venom into one sentence. That ought to be some kind of Guinness World Record. I run a hand over my braid.

“Next time, pick something you can pull off. Ready to roll?”

She scans my body, and I instinctively suck my stomach in. She is still much skinnier and taller than me.

“You obviously are.”

I will kill you dead, bitch. You’re going to be as relevant as the Spice Girls in my school.

I kick my car and brain into drive. Via has not changed in the past four years. She is not sweet or shy and timid. She is just pretending to be those things to get in my parents’, sister’s, and her brother’s good graces. Now I have to figure out what her angle is, and how far her real persona is from her fake one. Luckily, I have a lot of experience when it comes to fakeness. My personality is basically one hundred percent recyclable plastic. The only person who can still scrape a bit of authenticity from me is her brother.

“Did you and Penn have a good time catching up?” I signal right with my blinker as we zoom past Tudor mansions and sprawling Spanish villas.

“The best.” She flicks the overhead mirror open, fluffing her hair, and I catch a glimpse of her palm. It’s been cut open, and there’s a line of dry blood.

My gut clenches.

“He is so protective and loving.” She digs inside my old backpack, taking out a makeup kit that looks familiar. Because it is also mine. I bite my inner cheek.

“How sweet,” I say distractedly, wanting to throw up as panic washes over me. I gave him my virginity. Hell, I gave him much more. She is vindictive and mad and hungry for attention and love. She has every reason to want to ruin me.

She can’t know about the Royal Academy letter.

“It’d be good to hang out with him, you know? And with Kannon and Camilo and Adriana. Oh, my God. She’s probably so gorgeous nowadays. Penn always had it hard for her.”

I smile, breathing through my nose. Her taunt is spot-on, but I doubt she knows about her brother and me. Penn is more secretive than the CIA. He’d never volunteer any information about us.

Or would he?

He hid his sister’s arrival from me, so maybe he is hiding more stuff.

“You can always check on her. Your glamorous BFF works at Lenny’s.” I pop my gum. “And could use laying off the foundation and purple eyeshadow.”

Each word feels like a knife gliding on my tongue. Already in troubled water with my mother, neck-deep into my arrangement with Principal Prichard, and drowning while trying to keep my status as queen bee, I can’t afford to open any more fronts. But Via is practically begging for a battle, so it’s my duty to show her the weapon under my cowboy jacket, so to speak.

“Aww, someone sounds jealous.”

“Just personally offended by her lack of style.” I smirk.

“Yeah. You seem easily offended. Like yesterday, when you ran to your room when you saw my face. Some things don’t change, Lovebug.”

She claps the overhead mirror shut and pins me with a glare.

I pull into a parking spot in front of All Saints High and unbuckle the seat belt, twisting my whole body to face her.

“We don’t have to be enemies, Sylvia. I know you’re trying to rock the whole Goody-Two-shoes vibe with my family, but it’s not who you are, and it’s not who you have to be to fit in my family. We had our differences in the past, but we were fourteen and competing for the same spot. That spot is yours now if you want it. I have no interest in ballet anymore. We’re only going to have one senior year. Why not make it our best?”

She leans toward me, a sly smile gracing her lips. I forget to

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