Read Bratfest at Tiffany's for Free Online

someone hoping to be stopped.
    Alicia knew she had to do something. For her love life. Her social life. And her career.
    The red digital clock said 12:11:36. Which meant she had exactly three minutes and twenty-four … twenty-three … twenty-two … twenty-one … seconds before her broadcast to make things right.
    “Wait!” She turned all the switches and pressed every button she could find. Suddenly staticky white noise filled the booth. Between that and the soundproof walls, no one would hear what she was about to say.
    Josh dropped his bag and covered his ears. She motioned for him to come closer. He did, trying his hardest to stay mad. But, like most boys, he was powerless in the presence of Alicia’s exotic beauty.
    “Listen I know you like to gossip as much as I do but what i’m about to tell you is classified,” she hurried. “’Kay?”
    She held out her pinky.
    “What’s the finger for?” He smiled with amusement.
    “You have to pinky-swear not to tell anyone.”
    “Fine.” He rolled his eyes as if the soccer team were watching, then offered up his baby finger. “I swear.”
    They shook.
    “Okay.” Alicia inhaled deeply, silently cursing Massie for making her choose between her best friends and the most ah-dorable Ralph Lauren–wearing, gossip-loving hawttie she’d ever met.
    “Here’s the deal. The Pretty Committee is now the New Pretty Committee becuase we are on a boy fast. We aren’t allowed to hang out with boys any more because boys make girls do stupid things and we don’t want to act stupid any more. So I’m not allowed to talk to you and if I do I’ll get thrown out of the NPC for good. So what do I do?” Alicia searched Josh’s eyes for a reaction, but they were shaded by his Yankees cap. “Say something!”
    He snickered.
    “You think I’m lame, don’t you?” Alicia wished she could take it all back. “You think I should stand up for what I want and not agree to such a lame pact, don’t you? You think I should—”
    “I don’t think anything.” He lifted his bag again. Alicia fought the urge to throw herself on top of him and beg him not to walk out on her.
    “I get it.”
    “You
do
?” she asked as the red digital numbers on the clock informed her she had forty-five seconds to wrap this up.
    “Yeah.” He stuffed his hands in his faded pockets and leaned against the console. “My friends told me I couldn’t talk to anyone in the Pretty Committee because you were a bunch of stalkers and spies.”
    Alicia gasped. “Puh-lease! If you found out there was a hidden camera in one of our classrooms, wouldn’t you watch it too?”
    “Denied. Hypothetical. Leading the witness.”
    Alicia’s stomach flipped. Her crush had just busted out courtroom drama lingo. Could he be any more perfect? She wished she had captured that moment on her iPhone so she could send it to her lawyer dad. If she had, he would have sent back his blessing in the form of a big blank check for the wedding.
    “Sustained.” She giggled. “So did you tell them you’d never talk to me again?”
    “No. I said, too bad.”
    Alicia’s heart beat out the Morse code for
I ah-dore him
. “Then what?”
    “Nothing.” Josh grinned, revealing his ah-dorable fang. “We’re guys. It was over in two seconds.”
    “Well, it’s so nawt like that for me.”
    “Here, maybe this will help.” He lifted a pink New York Yankees cap out of his bag, removed her knit hat, and placed it on her head. It was such a cute gesture she didn’t bother thinking about how goofy she must have looked in pink, or how the polyester blend might suffocate her hair shafts. The only thought running through her mind was,
Awwwwwww
.
    “Think of Jeter when you wear it.”
    Alicia nodded like someone who knew who Jeter was.
    “The guy is a real team player, but at the same time, he’s not afraid to be the best. And to be the best, sometimes you have to quiet the voices in your head and do what’s right for
you
.” Shyly,