Chasing Butterflies Read Online Free

latest news right here has me looking at her sideways.
    “Ohh . Emm . Geee,” Crystal gushes, rushing up to me breathlessly. “Did you see those two nasty horndogs, practically licking and pawing each other down the hall?”
    I giggle. “Um, Crystal. I don’t think girls can be horndogs, silly.”
    She snorts. “Well, then she’s a horn puss. And they’re both nasty. I need a Pepsi and a cigarette just looking at those two. And I don’t even smoke.”
    I laugh. “You’re so silly.”
    “No. I’m serious. I feel dizzy.”
    “Come on, bestie.” I shoulder my backpack, then loop my arm through hers. “Let’s get to next period before you have a meltdown.”

5
    “W hy is it boys and girls can’t have platonic relationships?” Cameron wants to know, lifting two French fries from off of Crystal’s plate.
    The three of us are hanging out downtown at one of the local hot spots. Today it’s Arcadia, a really neat hangout for teens that has lots of vintage, coin-operated video and pinball arcade games, like Pac-Man, Asteroids, Defender; games none of us ever knew about until coming here; well, except for Pac-Man.
    Everyone knows, or has heard of that game before.
    Anyway...
    There are also several pool tables in the back area, along with a huge flat-screen TV and one of the latest gaming systems. And what’s really cool about this place is the thick glass floor that houses a ginormous aquarium of tropical fish and other sea life.
    I really love coming here.
    For selfish reasons, truthfully speaking.
    Daddy’s architecture firm designed this place. So it makes it that more special to me.
    Yup.
    Daddy’s an architect. A well-sought-out one, I might add. Daddy designs mostly commercial buildings. But his firm has designed most of the elaborate homes in Naples, Belmont Shore, and Spinnaker Bay, all exclusive sections of Long Beach.
    Anyway...
    Crystal smacks Cameron’s hand. “Hands off my fries,” she warns, pointing a finger at him.
    “Ow,” he yelps.
    “Next time it’ll be your face,” she warns, pointing her fork at him.
    He laughs. “Slap me, boo. I like it when you talk dirty.”
    Crystal grunts. “Oh, brother. Someone come put this lecherous boy out of his misery. Please. Before I stab him with my fork.”
    “Go ahead. I dare you.” He takes a sip of his Mountain Dew. “I bet you’ll look real chic in shackles and a Lynwood jumper,” he teases, referring to the Lynwood Jail for women.
    She sucks her teeth. “First of all, I’d probably get off on a technicality.”
    “Yeah, because you’re technically crazy,” he says. “Your next point?”
    She rolls her eyes. “And, secondly, Dumbo, I’m not old enough to go there.”
    Cameron furrows his brows. “Are you serious? Dang, Crystal.” He shakes his head, giving her a pitiful look. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”
    “ What? Excuse you?” she says, indignation rising in her tone. “Have you ?”
    “Yup. Every day. And I love what I see. But you . . .” He pauses, shaking his head again. “Sorry, babe, you look old, like Social Security, pension-collecting old.”
    Crystal feigns a yawn. “That was so lame.”
    These two are ridiculous, I think.
    Swallowing a sip of my iced vanilla latte, I slide a look over at Cameron. “To answer your question . . .”
    He gives me a puzzled look. “What question was that... ?”
    I sigh. “Jeez. Why boys can’t be friends with girls.”
    “Oh, yeah, right. Yeah, what’s the deal with that?”
    “Oh, I can tell you the deal with that,” Crystal offers, pushing her plate back, and wiping her mouth with her napkin. “Because instead of just being BFFs, boys are always trying to be FWBs. They’d rather have the perks of a boo without the title. They’ll say she’s just a friend, but we know what that really means.” She narrows her eyes at Cameron, who steals another French fry. “They’re such douchebags.”
    Cameron ignores her, gazing at me with those