Bridesmaid Blitz Read Online Free Page B

“And Barbie look-alikes aren’t my bag. I like my girls
au naturel
.”
    The D4s all gasp and swivel their eyes from Bailey to Annabelle, like they’re watching Wimbledon and Bailey has just lobbed a tricky ball at her.
    “Oops, didn’t mean to say that out loud,” Bailey murmurs, too low for Annabelle to hear.
    Annabelle sniffs. “Barbie look-alike? How dare you? My looks are, like, totally natural.” She strokes her blond curls, which are so bleached you can almost smell the ammonia whenever she tosses her head. “Well, mostly . . . And you’d be lucky. I don’t do sulky music-head emos, however cute they might be.” She narrows her eyes. “And you’d better, like, keep out of my way, new boy, if you know what’s good for you.”
    The D4 eyes swivel back to Bailey.
    “Happy to oblige,” he says.
    Annabelle gasps then gives him an evil glare, while the other D4s drop their heads into a gossip huddle and hiss, “Like, OMG, OMG, did you hear what he just said?” at each other. “So totally out of line.”
    After holding her death stare for a few more seconds, Annabelle lowers her head and joins them. They’re like a pack of hyenas tearing strips off a carcass, their tongues going lash, lash, lash — and this time Bailey is their prey. Now and then, one of them sticks her head up out of the huddle, looks at him, and bobs back down again.
    Bailey is looking pretty gloomy. “I should learn to keep my mouth shut. I’ve already made an enemy and we’re not even in school yet.”
    “Look, most of the D4s are as thick as bricks,” Seth says. “Just keep away from Annabelle and you’ll be grand. She’s a wagon of the highest order and doesn’t like being made to look bad in front of her cronies. Give her a wide birth and you’ll survive. Hey, you’re welcome to hang with us at break and lunch. We don’t go anywhere near D4ville.”
    Bailey smiles. “Cool, thanks. I was hoping to avoid any drama until at least my second day.”
    Mills giggles. “You’re so funny, Bailey.”
    “Have you just moved down?” I ask him quickly, trying to deflect his attention from Mills’s besotted gaze.
    Bailey looks confused.
    “From the North?” I add.
    He says nothing for a second, then, “I moved to Bray a while back. From Rathgar. Haven’t lived in the North for years.”
    “What school were you in before?”
    “Lakelands in Bray.”
    I sit up. “Really? I’ve heard it’s really posh and that all the sixth-years drive around in their own BMWs. Is it true? Is that why you left? Was it too posh? Or were you expelled or something?”
    Mills’s eyes widen and I can tell she’s dying to hear the answer.
    “Amy, stop with the questions,” Seth says with a laugh. (I have to admit Bailey is starting to look a little uncomfortable.) “I know you want to be a journalist and everything,” he continues, “but do you have to interrogate
everyone
?”
    “A journalist?” Bailey asks with interest. “Really?” I can’t help noticing how relieved he looks at the shift in conversation.
    I shrug. “Maybe. Or a psychologist. I haven’t decided yet.”
    “I’d lie on your couch any day.” Seth gives me a cheeky wink.
    “With all your psychoses, I’m not sure you could afford to pay me for all the time you’d chew up,” I say, thumping his arm playfully.
    “
Touché,
Amy.” Bailey grins, a smile so sunny, so involving, it almost sends Mills sliding off her seat. It even gives me goose bumps, and I have Seth, who’s no slacker when it comes to magic smiles.
    “What were you listening to?” I ask, nodding at Bailey’s headphones and hoping he’ll smile again.
    Bingo! Once more his smile sweeps over us like the warm yellow beam from a lighthouse. “You into music?” he says. “Cool . . .”
    Maybe this term’s not going to be so boring after all.
    “Stop talking!” Mr. Olen bangs a pot of blue poster paint on his desk. He’s been in a bad mood all lesson — guess we’re not the only ones