Jet Set Read Online Free Page B

immediately followed, and I watched them curiously. It would make sense that Victoria and Angelina were friends, since they probably moved in the same circles outside of school.
    â€œSo, you’re the newbie,” said the redhead, more as a fact than a question. “My name’s Maxwell.”
    â€œHi, yes. I’m Lucy. The new girl.”
    â€œWhere are you from?” he asked.
    â€œWell, I’m American, but my parents live in Germany.”
    â€œBankers?”
    â€œNo. Foreign service.”
    â€œYour dad the ambassador?” asked Maxwell, perking up. I guess my dad’s nonillustrious occupation was a rarity.
    â€œUm, not quite,” I said. “So is this the entire team?” I added quickly.
    â€œNaw, just the sophomores. Each grade practices among themselves.”
    â€œOh,” I replied, and then Sachs came out of his office.
    â€œTeam! Ten minutes left to break!” he barked, holding up his stopwatch before returning inside.
    â€œGosh, it’s hot today, bloody torture,” said the guy who had been sitting with Angelina. He walked up and stood next to Maxwell. I was stunned. It was Prince OLIVER. And if he had seemed hot in his picture in the magazine? Hotter! It was like a gust of romantic wind slapped me in the face. Seriously. He was tall and in shape, was still tanned from the summer, and had golden flecks in his brown hair. He had piercing blue eyes that crinkled in the corners, and eyebrows that were just a little bit darker than his hair color, which I found to be so hot. All of a sudden the workout and the heat made me feel a little dizzy.
    â€œYeah.” Yeah? That’s all I could say? Pathetic.
    â€œI’m Oliver,” he said, sticking out his hand.
    â€œPrince Oliver,” added Maxwell in a snotty tone.
    â€œMax, cut it out,” said Oliver, sounding embarrassed.
    â€œI’m Lucy.”
    â€œYou’re a darn good tennis player,” said Oliver. “Saw you out there,” he said, nodding to the clay court. “Killer volleys.”
    â€œThanks,” I said. Okay, why did I have to get so red? I must have looked like a burn victim, seriously, because my face was on fire. Had I never talked to a boy before?
    â€œLook, she’s blushing!” Maxwell pointed out the obvious. Jerk.
    â€œShe’s not blushing; it’s just a million degrees out here,” said Oliver gallantly.
    â€œOliver! Angelina just told me the funniest story. Come here!” shouted Victoria from the bench across the court.
    â€œI want to hear it!” shouted Maxwell, dragging Oliver over to the girls. I watched as Oliver plopped down next to Angelina and leaned against her.
    I stood frozen by the water cooler, mortified. I wasn’t invited across court to hear the hilarious story, so I looked like a complete tool. I pretended I needed more water, and when that didn’t kill enough time I became very involved with rewrapping the tape on my racket as if my life depended on it. I could hear the laughs and chatter from the little gang and felt wildly insecure and out of place. I couldn’t wait for Coach to return, and almost as though he could feel me willing him, he made his entrance.
    â€œOkay, now, we’ll practice the serves,” commanded Coach, clapping his hands furiously.
    We lined up and each took a turn. Victoria’s ball landed in the net. Angelina had a weak serve that made it over the net and in place but without any power. Oliver was pretty good, butMaxwell slammed across the net in the best effort of the day so far. When it was my turn I took a deep breath and whacked the ball. It landed perfectly in the corner, slicing over the net. I beamed. This was where I excelled.
    â€œGood shot, Peterson,” said Sachs. “But we have to do something about that racket. It’s as old as Chris Evert.” He exited, his massive staff in tow.
    â€œOh my God!” Victoria squealed, looking down