Theodora Twist Read Online Free Page B

last two days disappear and all I feel is me, Dora Twistler, Theodora Twist. I dive in and come up for air with nothing but the guys I love and the twinkling night sky surrounding me. Bo’s swimming toward me, holding up my bikini top, licking his lips. Brandon kisses me, then reaches under the water and tugs off my bikini bottom. And then I feel his—
    A flashbulb stops us cold.
    We all dive underwater, but it’s not like we can hide there for long without, say, drowning. The paparazzi have us trapped. We have no choice but to stay in the water, our backs to the shore, so that they can’t get our faces. But one of them already got something. And a picture of Theodora Twist frolicking naked in the ocean with the Bellini Brothers? It’s a million-dollar shot. Bo hands me my bikini top under the water and it takes me forever to get it on. Brandon puts my bikini bottom on for me. I can only hope there isn’t a photographer in scuba gear underwater.
    We surface and I back out of the ocean so that the jerks can’t get a shot of my face. There’s an explosion of flashbulbs. I grab Bo and Brandon’s pants and carry them back to them. Ever tried to put jeans on underwater? Bo and Brandon are pissed. Some goodbye. Cut short by a flashbulb.
    And worse: Ashley is going to kill me.

Emily
    Zach and Chloe Craven are holding hands at school on Monday morning. I can’t take my eyes off their entwined fingers. Zach never held my hand at school. In fact, he didn’t talk to me much at school. Almost like . . . he didn’t want anyone to know we were a couple.
    “Duh!” I mutter into my locker. “I am such an idiot. Why didn’t I know he was totally using me?”
    “ Trying to use you,” Belle points out, squeezing my shoulders.
    That’s something, at least. He tried and tried and got nothing but boring conversation. Those thirteen days were probably the longest and dullest of his life. All I wanted was sex, and not only didn’t I get it, but I had to listen to her talk. . . .
    I stare at my English notebook, contemplating cutting a class for the first time in my life. Like I want to feel Zach sitting behind me for forty-five minutes? Can I cut? I could always walk to the nurse, clutching my stomach. I wouldn’t even have to feign a pained expression. And I’d get to lie on that padded bench for the entire period. Maybe even through French too.
    To develop guts, I glance over at Zach and Chloe, now kissing by the girls’ bathroom.
    “Don’t look,” Jen says as she comes up to us and physically turns my head.
    I will not look. I will stare at my shoes. I will stare at Belle’s pigtails, which don’t really work on curly hair. Instead, I find myself focusing on Jen’s pretty necklace, a delicate silver heart locket that her boyfriend gave her for her birthday last month. “What’s so weird is that if I told Zach I’d be ready to have sex in a week or a month, he’d still be my boyfriend,” I say. “Now he’s someone else’s boyfriend.” Note to self: Learn how to tell a well-timed white lie.
    Jen slings an arm around my shoulder. “Just think of what a slime he is. That’ll help you forget him.”
    I hear the unmistakable giggle of Chloe Craven. You wouldn’t expect one of the smartest girls in school to giggle—and in such a high-pitched, nasal way. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Zach yanking her by her pink suede belt to Couples Corner under the stairwell. Teachers are always pulling liplocked students out of there. “I’m cutting English,” I tell Belle and Jen. “I suddenly have a really bad stomachache.”
    “I do too,” Belle says, grimacing. “Must have been those runny scrambled eggs the three of us ate at the diner before school. It’s probably food poisoning. I don’t think I can make it to history.”
    “We didn’t eat at—” I can see the lightbulb pop up over Jen’s head. “Oh. I think I’m gonna hurl,” she says, dramatically covering her mouth with one hand and clutching