#Scandal Read Online Free Page B

the new Griff shows up and we have to learn her all over again.
    Oh, I’m over that now, she says. So yesterday.
    She smooths her curls before the mirror, tendrils licking her shoulders like white flames. “Do I look okay?”
    “I wouldn’t change a thing.” I hold her gaze, but all she’s got left is her nothing-can-touch-me smile.
    “Except for maybe Cole’s undying love for Ell ie?” she says.
    “Griffin! I don’t—”
    “You should tell him. Or maybe . . .” Her lips curl into a smile, dark and devious.
    I hate when she gets like this, but guilt nudges me to play along. “Maybe what?”
    “ I could tell him.” She taps her chin with a glossy red fingernail. “That might be fun for everyone.”
    “You wouldn’t.”
    “Drinks?” she says. “Paul’s a pro on the blender.” She flicks off the lights, and before I can remind her that she hates frozen drinks because they give her brain freeze, she’s gone.
    The two-story timber-framed “cabin” is tucked into a grove that backs up to forest service land, miles from civilization.
    27

    I’ve only ever been here with Ellie, and now it feels odd without her, like the place was redecorated and I just can’t figure out what’s different.
    Also, I don’t usually hang out in the foyer behind the floor-to-ceiling curtains, peering out the front windows like a shut-in.
    That makes ten. I sip my sweet “Piña Paulada” and count another set of headlights bouncing up the dirt path. Olivia, the art girl Cole danced with earlier, hops out of an SUV
    with her friends Quinn and Haley, a trio of winged sprites in blond, brunette, and red. Disappointment settles in my stomach.
    Want some whine with that cheese? Here goes: My hair hurts. My feet are killing me. Griff’s ignoring me. Cole’s been looking for me, but whenever I see him I disappear, hoping against the odds Griff hasn’t carried out her pseudo-threat.
    The doorbell rings—Olivia and company—and I think about the Undead Shred tournament I’m missing, the rush that comes with tossing a Molotov cocktail and bolting to the nearest safe room. My online crew’s gonna freak when they hear I ditched them for a party. Half of them are in college or older, way beyond high school ridiculousness.
    That’s what rocks about it. As long as you can kill walk-ers and keep the team safe, you can be anyone you want 28

    in the gaming world. Princess. Warrior. International girl of mystery. Unlike in the real world, where everyone can see you bumbling around like an idiot in a dress, live and uncut.
    A prom party! What was I thinking?
    Cole. That’s what I was thinking. And in the hour I’ve been here, I’ve done nothing but avoid him.
    Maybe . . . I could tell him . . . fun for everyone . . .
    My phone buzzes again just as Cole passes behind me to collect the car keys from Olivia’s friend, and my neck prickles. Ellie didn’t leave a voice mail before. Her texts are getting impatient.
    where r u? y no more pics?
    at cabin , I type. cole playing host. but zzzzz! party is snooze-fest w/o u!
    She replies instantly: u went to party? thought u had game stuff 2nite?
    I hesitate. Another text follows: hello, u h8 parties. what’s going on?
    Last minute decision , I type. no worries. prolly find a ride home early. u mad?
    A few minutes pass before she responds, my breath fog-ging the window as I wait.
    just surprised , she finally says. & cranky w/ super big bird flu. sux.
    29

    :-) wish u were here, el.
    me 2, my goth princess. so where’s frenchie? u in total amour yet?
    The window is cloudy, and with my free hand I trace a heart in the fog. Ellie’s next text arrives before I respond.
    u better b! i’m living vicariously, watching TVD reruns & eating crackers in bed. send more pix! esp. if frenchie shows! maybe he’ll take u home?
    “Duuuude.”
    The word floats on a moss-scented current, and I turn toward the source, ducking out from behind the curtain.
    Clarice’s substance-abusing nemesis, a kid who