Drag Teen Read Online Free Page B

Heather asked, her Bette Davis eyes on the road.
    I had told Seth earlier in the day that I didn’t want to talk about the exam, and he was supposed to have relayed this message to Heather. Odds were good that he had, and that she was blithely ignoring it.
    “I’d really rather not—”
    Seth joined in, egging me on. “I mean, this is huge for you. This is basically your last shot at a scholarship, at college, at a future. This is major, unless of course you were to consider my idea—”
    “We get it.” I turned up the radio, hoping to drown out both Heather and Seth, but Heather lowered the volume again.
    “You can talk to us, JT,” Seth pushed on. “We’re your friends. Keeping things bottled up all the time sucks. Believe me, I know.”
    “What does that mean?” I asked.
    “Nothing. Never mind,” Seth said after an uncomfortable beat of silence.
    “Hot dogs!” Heather shouted as she jerked the car into the parking lot of Hal’s, the hot dog stand that had been on the side of the highway for as long as I could remember. It was one of those places that looked really cool without knowing it. Tacky Christmas lights hung between palm trees over a patch of weathered old picnic tables, a huge grill, a little yellow shack, and the omnipresent aroma of hot dogs. The place was always crowded because one of those TV shows about food said Hal’s served the best hot dog in Florida, and they were right.
    We ordered at the counter. All of the hot dogs were named after famous people from Florida. As much as I hate to admit it, I ordered the Brittany Snow. What can I say? I like coleslaw.
    We made our way over to a table in the corner, across from a cluster of cute guys. They went to our school but were the kind of popular kids whose names I never could have learned even if I’d tried. The kind of kids who probably had been there laughing at me during the school talent show.
    “Those guys go to our school, don’t they?” Seth said between bites of his Gloria Estefan Dog. “Heather, don’t you know the one in the blue?”
    Heather looked over her shoulder at the very cute boy in a blue T-shirt across the way. “Yeah. Patrick Eberhart. He lives down the street from me. I used to swim in his pool when we were little kids.”
    “Go talk to him.” Seth nudged her with his elbow. “He’s really cute and he keeps looking over at you.”
    “I haven’t talked to him in forever. He probably doesn’t even remember me.”
    “You grew up down the street from him. It’s not like that was fifty years ago. Of course he remembers you. Don’t you think he’s cute?”
    Heather looked over her shoulder again.
    “Yeah.”
    “Well then. GO!” Seth tossed one of his fries at her, which landed in her frizzy hair.
    “Right. The weirdest and fattest girl in school goes to talk to one of the popular guys at her favorite hot dog stand. That’s a movie I do NOT want to see. Much less be a part of.”
    “Do it! I demand it! And it’s my birthday next month.” Seth never took no for an answer.
    “Oh sure, because that makes sense.”
    “No, Heather. You owe it to yourself. Be bold. Be brave. It’s like I’m always telling JT. Ditch the whole self-hating BS and just live.”
    “Seth, leave her alone. If she doesn’t want—” I tried to protest, but he wasn’t giving up that easy.
    “Heather, you’re beautiful. The world is full of different kinds of beauty. Sure, you don’t look like those cookie-cutter popular girls, but who cares? You look like you , and that’s better than being a cookie cutter.”
    Heather was quiet for a moment, a rare phenomenon. Sometimes it seemed like she was afraid of silence. Heather always dominated the conversation, no matter who she was talking to. I think that was one of the reasons I loved her, because I never had to worry about saying something interesting.
    The boy in the blue shirt must have noticed us looking at him. Everyone at his table was very aware of us, which was the