Something Real Read Online Free Page A

the Beach Boys’ greatest hits. “ I wish they all could be California girrrrrls ,” he croons.
    Lexie™ rolls her eyes.
    If my sister were a character in a Victorian drama, she would be the snobbish rich girl with a penchant for talking shit about everyone behind her fan. For the record, this is the only time she has ever picked up our, quote, two drunk asses. But who’s counting?
    “You know, Bonnie™, you don’t want to come off as a total dropout,” Lex says. “What were you thinking, getting all up in the camera like that? Super psycho, if you ask me.”
    She checks her side mirror as she pulls out, but it’s more because she misses her reflection than any attempt at driver safety.
    “I didn’t ask you,” I say, changing the radio from pop to oldies. “But you’ve always been the expert on making love to the camera, so maybe I should have.”
    “I was twelve. That’s a healthy age to explore your body,” Lex snaps. She puts the station back to Power 105.1—Today’s Hottest Music!
    I arch one eyebrow, a skill I perfected during season ten. “Is that what we call masturbation these days?”
    Benny howls with laughter. “Ohmygod, I totally forgot about that!” He adopts the tone of a voiceover actor: “Will Lexie™ be able to resist humping the living room couch? Or will her raging hormones get the better of her? Find out next week on Baker’s—”
    “Shut up, Benny. At least I wasn’t a nudist. Or did you forget that your boy parts had to be blurred out for all of season seven?”
    “I heart my body,” he says, making a heart with his fingers à la Taylor Swift.
    Lexie™ ignores him, slowing down as we near our house.
    “Keep driving.” I put my hand on the wheel, but she pushes me off.
    “Don’t do that again, Bonnie™.” There’s a threat hiding in the silky folds of her voice, and I wish she would just freaking get over season thirteen.
    “You know, I thought you’d be a little nicer to me now that the show’s back on,” I say. “Isn’t this, like, the happiest day of your life?”
    I hope I’m not a mean drunk. Am I? In so many ways I am my father’s daughter. I switch the station back to oldies, just because.
    Lex’s eyes shift to me for a second and then she just shakes her head. “Forgive me if I’m not super quick getting over being on house arrest since we were thirteen. It’s not like I was famous before or anything. And, you know, I totally love lying to my friends every day. And forget having a serious relationship. But whatever. No problem.”
    Instantly I’m furious, like I’m breaking out in a sweat, but instead of sweat, it’s just pure, unadulterated rage oozing through my pores because, God , can she push my buttons, and I just want to freaking punch her face.
    “Oh, I’m sorry, Lexie™,” I say, my voice sticky sweet. “I had no idea I was keeping you from having a serious boyfriend. You mean all this time you didn’t want to sleep with half the guys at your school?”
    I know I’ve gone too far. Something like hurt flits across her face, but it’s gone before I can feel too bad. It’s not like she’s ever held back to spare my feelings.
    “Well, one of us has to get laid,” she spits.
    Maybe I deserve that for essentially calling my sister a whore, but it’s still a low blow.
    “Can you bitches please shut up?” Benny groans from the backseat.
    “Well, now that the show’s back on,” I say, ignoring Benny, “you can stop blaming me for every problem in your life.”
    “Great. I’ll just pretend the past four years haven’t happened. Thanks, Bonnie™, I feel a lot better now.”
    I hate her because she’s right. And because all of it’s my fault—and none of it is. It was never just about protecting me. It was about what Dad did and the media storm and what people were saying about all of us and a million things I really don’t want to, really can’t, think about right now.
    “Mom and Dad were the ones who canceled the