Puck Buddies Read Online Free

I
wink and drag her in. “My dad made me promise I would come down, but we don’t
have to stay. Maybe like an hour. Do a bit of dancing and leave.”
    The club is bouncing, which means Nat
might want to stay. She loves dancing almost as much as she loves protesting.
But she has to get in the mood. Thinking about her mom is the opposite of
getting in the mood.
    “What DJ is it?” Nat hurries behind our
escort to my new private table.
    “I don't know. I think it’s one of the
European guys that dated Katy Perry or someone like that.” I slide into the
booth next to her, giving her the look.“Let’s just have fun and when
we’re done, we’ll go home. Your parents won’t know we even came into the city.
I swear. Vincenzo will have us back to Greenwich before they even finish
lunch.”
    “You can’t promise that. My mom lives by
the society pages. If she sees us here, I’m dead.”
    “Oh my God. I have yet to see a nightclub
in the society pages. You need to calm down, for reals. Nadia did your makeup
super intense. I barely recognize you. You’re fine.” I can’t fight the eye
roll. “Try to remember you’re an adult now. You’re legal to vote for God’s
sake. Stop letting your mom treat you like a child. Besides, I need you to
focus on something way more important than your mom’s latest hissy fit.” I
smile wide, flashing my teeth at her.
    “You’re fine,” she groans.
    “I had spinach in my pasta. Look closer.
I can’t walk around here looking like I haven’t brushed in years.”
    “This better not come back to bite me in
the ass.” Nat scans the room, still uneasy. She lives and dies by her mother’s
opinion, which in my opinion is crap. Her mom has some weird ideas about how to
belong to the upper crust of society. As a member of the upper crust, I can tell you , her ideas are whack .
    “Seriously. Are my teeth cool or not?”
    “You’re fine, just stop. It doesn’t
matter anyway. You could wear spinach in your teeth and spinach teeth would
become cool. Girls have been flashing their boobs and doing wet tee shirt contests
for months.”
    “I know. That’s why I’m here. Making good
publicity for the family.”
    “You’re still only eighteen and in a club
in New York. I don’t see how this is better PR for the family.” Nat nods at the
dance floor when she sees the look on my face. “A couple of dances and then we
go before I get caught for sneaking into the city?”
    “Fine”—I lean forward, gripping her
hands—“but I still think you need to remember you’re in an exclusive club
where no one is taking pictures. You’re totally safe.” What I want to say is
woman up, but I can’t. Natalie Banks is my best, and maybe only, friend.
    Which means I have to tolerate her
inability to tell her mom to suck it. Mrs. Banks was a mean bitch as a teacher,
and she’s even worse as a parent. She puts the mother in smother. And Mr. Banks
is the ultimate doormat. “Yes, dear” is a catchphrase at their house.
    And because of it, Nat is the ultimate
goody-goody.
    We’re polar opposites.
    I smoke. She turns on a fan.
    I drink. She gets the barf bag and holds
my hair.
    I skip school. She takes notes.
    She’s a huge dork.
    I’ve spent the last couple of years
trying to undo everything her mom does so I can break her out of her shell.
She’s fun when she lets loose.
    But most of the time she tries too hard
to be what her mom expects.
    Normally, she wouldn't fit in with the
rest of us rich kids but she’s beautiful. And beauty forces the world to
forgive a variety of sins and flaws.
    And she’s gorgeous. She looks like a
fairy or a tiny angel. Fragile is the word for her. But only in appearance ; physically she’s a savage. You can’t fight with her, not
even playing around. She’s wiry and cheats. She bites and pulls hair. There’s
no actual winning with her. She’s scrappy and fast to my lazy and out of shape.
    The only way to overpower her is to turn
on a video game. Then she