FanGirl Read Online Free Page B

or an anime sex goddess. Alexandra is a warrior, but she’s also sexy as hell.” She crosses her arms and defiantly sets her jaw. “Why do you think she’s every fanboy’s fantasy? You’re hot and cute and you need to work it.”
    “I’ll wear it, but know I’m uncomfortable and I’m bringing a hoodie in my bag.”
    “Of course you are.” She rolls her eyes, but I see the smile of satisfaction on her lips. I’m not sure, but Iris may have turned into my pimp.
    An hour later, I strap my hatchet to my belt and we head to the elevator. In the shiny gold metal doors, I check out my makeup and hair. Iris managed to manipulate it into some kind of conflicting state of just got out of bed/just killed a dozen zombies mess. I admit it: I look pretty hot.
    With a loud bing! the elevator doors open to reveal a Wookie, the Green Lantern and some guy wrapped in foil whose eyes go straight to my chest. Iris and I keep our eyes on the ground, refusing to make contact. A surge of laughter is one glance away. The doors shut and the Green Lantern, whose tights are too tight, says, “Hey, I know you.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    “You’re Alexshhandra.” I eye his “water bottle” with suspicion.
    “Yep. Zombie killer.”  I tug on my hatchet and pretend the tinfoil guy isn’t staring at my chest. “That’s me.”
    “You kick ass.” The Wookie nods in agreement. Foil guy continues to stare at my boobs and I shift further away.
    The elevator stops at the atrium. The second the doors open, Iris grabs my hand and the weirdoes are forgotten as we step into the most magical room ever.
    “Holy. Nerdfest.”
    The first words out of my mouth are, “Oh my God. Where is her shirt?” I point across the room to the girl in question since there is more than one semi-naked woman in sight.
    “There isn’t one. I think,” Iris narrows her eyes, “that’s tape?”
    Sure enough, those are tape-covered nipples. I palm my boobs in sympathy.
    “Ouch. Okay, don’t look now but behind that column I can see two half-naked girls and a guy groping each other on the couch.” Iris turns before I finish the sentence.
    “I said don’t look!”
    “How do you not look at that?” She’s right. My eyes are glued to the quasi-orgy. Oh my God! I was at a quasi-orgy!
    “He’s kind of hot.”
    “You think everyone is kind of hot,” I say, tugging on her arm. “Let’s mingle. Maybe a couple of those zombies will be worth chatting up.”
    “You and I could both use a summer fling. Well, I need a summer fling. You need a rebound. What better place to start looking than here?”
    We stroll through the crowd, absorbing everything. Nothing I’ve heard prepared me for this insane, awesome, amazing freak show. Loud music pulses and we stop to take pictures of all the incredible costumes. Even with my plunging neckline, Iris and I have on comparably tame outfits, but we do see security talk to more than one person about their (lack of) dress and public affection. I learn more in three minutes about sex education than I ever did in school.
    “There’s Reid. Let’s go make him jealous. Again,” she says. He’s standing with a group of zombies from the parade, including some kids from school. He has gobs of white/gray paint on his face. Personally, I think he’s using it to cover the green shade of envy that he’s worn since our video hit the web.
    “Go ahead. I’m going to get a drink first. You want a bottle of water?”
    She and I go in opposite directions. I manage to get about five feet into the crowd near the bar when I realize I’m trapped in a thick throng of people. It only takes a second to see that this is not where I want or need to be. One look at the faces around me and my Spidey senses flash on alert. The crowd behaves more like a storm than anything else. A storm of sex-starved, creeper geeks. In a panic, I push backwards, but the path I came from is blocked.
    “Alexandra!” Oh God, they recognize me. Not just one guy, but