Cruel Summer Read Online Free

graduation.
    “Where should we meet up?” Max asked. “Black Sand?”
    “Maybe Mynt,” Vanity said. “Mimi says I should put in an appearance there tonight.”
    Max shook his head, grinning. Mimi as in Mimi Blair, Vanity’s power girl publicist. Not many seventeen-year-old girls had their own handler to tell them where to go and how long to stay there. How wicked cool was that? Shit. Maybe he should get one. And if they all looked as smoking hot as Mimi, why not hire two? His father would sign off on the bill. Action Dad preferred the spending of money to the spending of time anyway.
    Yeah, that’s what Max needed. His own publicist. He worshiped Donald Trump. Something about the man fascinated Max. For one thing, he was drawn to the way Trump walked around as if he were ten feet tall, no matter what business analysts, critics, or late-night comedians were saying about him. Freaking brilliant. Especially the methods he used to promote his own image. They were awesome. And a man needed some strong PR muscle to brand himself. One night, a few months ago, when Max and Vanity were almost drunk and counting up his winning stash, she’d pronounced him Baby Donald. The name stuck. Now it was even on his license plate in abbreviated form: BABY DON .
    “Are you there?” Vanity asked.
    Her question rocked him back to the issue of Mynt. It was a South Beach superclub with deep green walls that got washed in menthol green light. Pretty cool. They said that the scent of mint wafted through the air vents, but every time Max had ever partied there, all he could smell was cigarettes, sweat, and sex. “Yeah, I’m here,” he said, finally. “We’ll meet you there.”
    Vanity hesitated. “Who’s we ?”
    “Pippa,” Max answered. “I’m on my way to pick her up now.”
    Vanity groaned. “Well, so much for that pot of cash you won tonight. The girl won’t have a dollar to her name. Trust me.”
    “I thought you liked her.”
    “I do. But she never has any money.” Vanity launched into a mocking British accent. “I’m so broke. Please buy me a Vitamin Water. Can you pay for my movie ticket?” Then she sighed heavily. “God, it’s so annoying. I’ve only known her a few weeks, and the girl owes me at least a hundred dollars! I mean, come on, I thought her father was a millionaire.”
    “He is,” Max said. One beat. “Or was. I’m not sure what the deal is. All I know for sure is that her mother divorced him and that they moved here with practically nothing. Did you know she only gets sixty bucks a week for allowance money?” He laughed. “Shit, I spend that much on gum. ”
    “Sixty dollars?” Vanity echoed. The shock in her voice said the amount sounded more like sixty cents. “Well, that explains why she was wearing an Old Navy outfit the other day.” Bitchy laugh. “Maybe we should start a relief fund. You know, like they did for the Tsunami victims.”
    “Oh, baby, you’re cold,” Max said. But his voice rang with nothing but praise. He loved every second of it. His Sidekick II alerted him to a text message. One glance. “Speak of the devil. I just got a text from her. Hold up.” Checking the screen, he read it and smiled.
    WHERE THE HELL R U?
    Then he quickly typed out a reply.
    ON THE WAY. C U SOON.
    “Okay, I’m back. She was like, ‘Where the hell are you?’ I’m telling you, the girl wants me.”
    “Either that or the free drinks,” Vanity countered.
    “Be nice,” Max warned. “Seriously, Pippa’s really nervous about being the new girl in the fall.”
    “Oh, so you’re just there for her on a social level.” Vanity’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
    “Not entirely, ” Max admitted. “The girl is hot. I wouldn’t mind marking my territory before we go back to school.”
    “God, you’re such a pig!” Vanity laughed.
    “Hey, I need to get to her before the new guy does.”
    “What new guy?” Vanity asked.
    “Oh, it’s my stepmonster’s new charity project,” Max said.