Life in the Lucky Zone (The Zone #2) Read Online Free Page A

their perfect hair and their perfect, sexy smiles and their perfect tats. “You suck,” I told them. “Every single one of you. Because you’re boys, and all boys suck.” I hadn’t even listened to their music in years. Weird, ’cause I had to admit I still liked them. Even though they were boys.
    Adam had always made fun of me for that poster, but I’d ignored him. It had been on my ceiling since I was fourteen, and I’d always thought it brought me luck somehow. I couldn’t exactly explain why. Like I felt more confident just staring at it. And part of me liked that the poster bugged Adam. It was who I was, and I didn’t want to change that for anybody. But who I was obviously wasn’t good enough anymore.
    Frustration, hard and rough-edged, scraped around my insides. I grabbed the first thing my fingers touched—a plush pink heart—and threw it at the boys in the poster. The now apparently unlucky boys in the poster. The heart connected, making the paper crinkle, and then dropped harmlessly to the floor. It wasn’t enough.
    I clenched my teeth and started hurling anything I could find—stuffed animals, throw pillows—but other than a slight tear at one corner, the poster stayed together. As if the boys were laughing down at me: Do your worst. We don’t care. We can take it.
    Of course they didn’t care. They were boys. Boys like Adam. Who cheated. And lied. And dumped me for the noble role of protecting a pregnant ex. Or maybe that was just an excuse. He’d probably wanted to be with her for months, but geography had left him only me. Poor, poor boy. He’d soldiered on with only Lindsey Taylor for comfort.
    I rolled to my feet in one sudden movement. And the pain that had been radiating throughout me came together in a huge ball. I screamed. A loud, long, gut-wrenching sound that made me hunch over and grab my knees. That bastard. That soul-sucking, arrogant bastard.
    I heaved in shaky breaths and stumbled over to a pile of bigger stuffed animals. These should do some damage. I threw the smallest ones as though I were a ball-launching machine stuck on high. I missed the poster entirely, my missiles banging against the open closet door, and a few even flying inside. How lame was that? I couldn’t even hit the ceiling.
    I yanked a two-foot-tall teddy bear off the floor and hurled it across the room. A spike of adrenaline fizzled across my chest as soon as I let go. Because the bear flew straight toward the top of my dresser and crashed into it, sending old soccer trophies, perfume bottles, and the framed photo of me and my brother to the carpet.
    And then it happened, almost in slow motion. My American Girl doll teetered on her stand as if she were thinking about not falling at all. Then she dropped head first toward the floor.

Five
     
    Lindsey
     
     
    “No! Vivi!” I was at her side in seconds, kneeling on the floor, tears streaming down my face. It was stupid, but I couldn’t help it. I’d had Vivian since I was eight. Named her for my grandma, who’d bought her for me. I should have put the doll away long ago, so she wouldn’t get dusty. Or hurt by flying bears.
    I untangled her hair from the plastic stand, which took a while because I couldn’t see through my watery eyes. Once she was loose, I carried her to my bed and lay down. I smoothed her bright red hair, the same color mine used to be before it got darker. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “What would Granny say if she knew how I’d treated you?”
    Vivi just lay there with her eyes closed as though she were saying, Get with the program! Take a nap. Funny that in my head she always sounded like my grandmother. What I wouldn’t give for Granny to be here right now. But she’d died when I was twelve, so I’d have to make do without her.
    That thought gouged another hole in my heart. My tears, which had slowed down, started back up again. Fantabulous. I was a total mess. I needed help. It was time to take my mother’s