The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back Read Online Free Page A

multi-colored streaks of chalk on her face, clothes and fingertips. She was one of the few teachers I actually liked, and it was embarrassing to have her find out that I misbehaved outside of her classroom.
    A laptop was propped open next to the door. It asked for my student ID and password. I entered the number and used my current go-to password that consisted of my birthday and my favorite anime artist,
tezuka827
. I hit the enter key.
    The screen flashed, "THANK YOU MATILDA LOWE. DETENTION CHECK-IN TIME 2:37 P.M."
    I told you it was an expensive school. (That, and Ms. Rathbone was obsessed with computerized record keeping.)
    Room 203 was bright and airy. The windows on the outer wall started halfway up, curved at the corner where the ceiling began, and made up part of the roof. This wing had the art studios because of the excellent light. Beyond the classroom I could see the landscaping crew tending to the bright green grounds (not fields, thank you, but grounds).
    Realizing that Mrs. Putnam was giving me a strange expression while I stared out the window, I quickly picked a desk in the middle of the room, sat down and dropped my bookbag on the floor next to me. I leaned over and pulled out my sketchpad and a pencil from my bag. I knew I should probably do my homework, but if I was going to sit in silence for the next hour, I was at least going to enjoy myself.
    I had just started sketching a rough outline for my Ms. Rathbone-inspired warrior when suddenly every ion in the room became electrically charged.
    Jake.
    I was so aware of him that it was actually lame. I knew when he walked in a room even if I didn't see him. I felt it. The air was different when he was breathing it.
    I heard the keys clicking on the laptop and watched as he entered his information into the computer. Jake had detention? Here? With me?
    Then I wondered why Jake would have detention. Jake was not the kind of person who ended up here. He didn't have a problem with authority figures like I did. What had he done?
    He looked up and I looked down at my sketchpad. I didn't know if Mercedes had already talked to him, and I didn't want to see pity or disgust or confusion or any of the expressions I imagined him having.
    "Hi, Mrs. Putnam," he said in that deep, rumbly, smooth voice. It had the tendency to melt my insides into a pile of goo.
    "Hello, Jake," she responded with an ever-so-slight flirtatious lilt at the edge of her voice. No woman was immune to the powers of Jake Kingston's charm.
    I kept my eyes trained on my sketchpad, still not wanting to look up. It wasn't an easy battle because I loved looking at him.
    So it shocked me when, out of the twenty-nine other seats in the classroom he could have picked, he sat down right in front of me. I would know the back of his head anywhere. Given our last names, Kingston and Lowe, I had been seated behind him in every class we'd shared for most of our lives.
    He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started typing. Electronic devices weren't allowed in detention, but rules didn't typically apply to Jake. I leaned to one side to see if Mrs. Putnam would say anything. But she looked distracted and a little anxious. She kept checking the clock. I again noticed the colored chalk on her fingers and blouse. She had the look of an artist who had been working on a piece and wanted to get back to it. Trust me, I knew this look very, very well.
    I wasn't the only one who noticed her fidgeting. "Mrs. Putnam, if you need to go, I think Mattie and I are responsible enough to watch ourselves."
    He knew my name
! Well, obviously, he knew my name. He was dating my stepsister. But I didn't think I'd ever heard him say it out loud before. My heartbeat sped up.
    After I got over that initial shock of hearing my name pass across Jake's lips, I realized the brilliance of his plan. If Mrs. Putnam left, I'd be alone with Jake. For an entire hour.
    "The art studio is right down the hall," I pointed out helpfully. "You could come