Addison Blakely: Confessions of A PK Read Online Free Page A

be there.” Claire smacked her lips twice before putting her tube of gloss back in her purse.
    “And you know where the library is?”
    “Addison.” The raking of the zipper on her purse punctuated her frustration.
    “Sorry, just making sure.”
    “You underestimate me.” She swept past, and the bathroom door nearly hit me in the shoulder as I followed her toward her locker.
    “I know. But that project is due for Mr. Black’s class Monday, and we’ve barely made a dent in it.” Biology, ugh. Not my favorite subject and usually the messiest. What teacher assigned such a big project that was due so soon after the start of school anyway? It should be illegal—and this coming from a girl who actually enjoyed school most days. I could only imagine what the less-than-studious types were thinking. Probably nothing PG.
    “You’ve never even made a B in your entire life. What’s the big deal?” Claire wiggled her fingers in a wave as we passed Austin’s locker, and he nodded at her but winked at me. I turned my head the other direction and continued, ignoring Claire’s pout.
    “Yes, I have.” I think. It would have been in elementary school, but it still counted. I wasn’t perfect—regardless of what my dad thought.
    A shadow nestled on her face. “I said I’d be there.”
    “I hope so because you know I can’t come up with a cell model by myself in time—”
    Claire held up one hand so fast she almost hit me in the nose. “I’ll be there.” She fiddled with her combination and yanked open the door. Someone had taped a flyer advertising the annual end-of-the-semester talent show on her locker, and already a penciled mustache and devil horns adorned the photo of last year’s winner.
    I pulled it down and handed it to her, knowing she wouldn’t want that on her door. She barely even glanced at it as she shoved it inside her locker. “I’ll bring you a pop, okay?” A little extra bribe couldn’t hurt. I didn’t trust Claire’s motivation much these days. A fact, sad but true. High school had changed my friend, and I missed the middle-school girl who used to invite me over for sleepovers and always gave me the biggest brownie. I couldn’t even picture Claire baking anymore, not without a designer apron tied around her waist and her manicured hands protected by plastic gloves. My sandbox buddy was long gone, lost somewhere beneath two layers of makeup and freshly waxed eyebrows.
    “Sure. Whatever. See you in a bit.” She banged the door shut and left without a wave.

    I rolled in my lower lip as she sauntered off. I hoped the ‘tude wasn’t because of Austin. Claire knew I wasn’t interested in him, and until she recently discovered his supposed interest in me, she had never seemed to be attracted to him either. So what was the big deal? Maybe we’d get a chance to talk during study hall while brainstorming for our project, and I could find out what was bothering her.
    Claire’s bottled Coke I’d snagged from the vending machine after two dollars and fifty cents’ worth of attempts formed a cold layer of condensation on the bottom of my tote bag. Here I was breaking a rule for her—no food or drinks allowed in the library—and she was twenty-five minutes late. We only had an hour before our next class started.
    If she was doing her makeup again, I’d kill her.
    I tapped my fingers against the open textbook on the table, trying to focus. But frustration toward Claire overwhelmed any creative thought. She knew this project was important to me— we were partners in the class, and this was a shared effort
and
grade—and she couldn’t even be considerate enough of my feelings to be on time?
    “I’m gonna kill her.” This time I said it out loud, and a freshman at a corner table by the fiction bookshelf shot me a nervous glance.
    “Problems?” A voice, thick with accent, sounded over my shoulder, and I turned to see a pretty blond with a bob haircut smiling at me. Her table was loaded