Read Bratfest at Tiffany's for Free Online Page B

idea.” He pulled off his baseball hat and ran his hand through his thick dark hair.
    Alicia had no idea what she adored more, his devious mind or the wavy hair that protected it.
    “Tell me.” She bobbed up and down on her Matador red toes.
    “Swear on the Yankees you won’t tell anyone.” He held out his hat.
    “The
Yankees
?” she screeched. “Who cares about—”
    “Just swear!”
    Alicia took off her cap and clinked it against his as if they were champagne flutes. “I swear,” she said with a playful eye-roll.
    “On what?”
    She rolled her eyes again. “The
Yankees
.”
    “Good.” Josh replaced his hat. “I’ll e-mail the plan tonight.”
    “You mean you don’t—”
    “I will.” He flicked the brim of her cap, then, without another word, opened the door and slipped out.
    Alicia kept smiling at him even though he was gone.
    Once the coast was clear, she jammed the pink hat to the bottom of her motorcycle bag until it was buried under more makeup than Paula Abdul. Then she turned off the lights and inhaled the darkness, willing her thumping heart to mellow. Something was making it beat furiously. But what?
    The thrill of Josh?
    Or the fear of Massie?
    It was impossible to tell.
    Love and terror felt exactly the same.

BOCD
HEALTH CLASS
    Tuesday, September 8th
1:07 P.M.
    A pamphlet called
The Complete Guide to Menstruation
whizzed by Claire’s head. “Okay, health class with boys should be illegal.”
    “Fear not.” Layne placed her hands on her hips like a brave superhero. “I’m protesting after school.”
    Giggles erupted from the back of the classroom, where a group of eight students were ransacking the shelves, searching for dirty reference books. Only five others were in their seats, but no one dared make eye contact. Simply being there, surrounded by posters of teens with sexually transmitted diseases, as well as ceramic uteruses, was awkward enough. Actually acknowledging one another heightened the embarrassment factor to an unmanageable degree.
    Layne checked all three of the multicolored Swatch watches on her arm. “Where’s our teacher? Day one and she’s already late. We should get our money back.”
    “I hear ya,” Claire said to the nude male and female mannequins by the blackboard that posed in a proud-to-be-naked sort of way.
    Layne unhooked a turquoise mesh sack from the back of her wooden chair and fished around inside. “I wish Dempsey Solomon was back.” She pulled out a tin of citrus sour Altoids and popped an orange candy in her mouth. “You want?”
    Claire shook her head no. Tart anything reminded her of the ex-gifts ex-Cam used to give her. And her taste buds weren’t over him yet.
    “Dempsey got me into these.” Layne shook the tin. “They’re curiously sour.”
    “Where is he?”
    “On an eco-adventure tour in Bali with his parents. He’ll be back Friday. I can’t wait. He’s like the only cool guy I know.”
    “He is
?” Claire asked, picturing the blond, green-eyed chubby gamer who worked the lighting board for the Young Actors’ Program (YAP) at the community playhouse. “Isn’t he the one who presses dollar bills in his textbooks to make them vending-machine ready?”
    “Yeah.” Layne beamed. “Isn’t that so smart of him?”
    “The one Massie calls—”
    “Humpty Dempsey?” Layne rolled her eyes. “Yeah. But trust me, he’s cool. You should go for him. It might take you mind off Ca—”
    “I told you already, I’m on a boyfast.” Claire blurted, grateful for the excuse.
    “Your loss.” Layne shrugged.
    “Why don’t
you
go for him?”
    “Onstage romances are cursed. We decided to keep our relationship professional, except at birthday parties and dances. It’s for the bes—”
    “Ew!” yelped Krista Bassett, the pale blond who insisted her green contacts were natural. “This one’s called
Safe Sex
and it actually
shows
you how to put on a condom.” She whipped it at the guys, who jumped back, as if touching the