Spin Control Read Online Free

in.
    I still can’t believe Georg and I weren’t more careful about watching the clock.
    Okay, maybe I can believe it. Georg has this way of making me feel so incredible when we’re together—and not just when we’re making out—that I have trouble keeping focused on anything else going on around me. This is totally corny, but he makes me feel better about me .
    As I walk down the palace halls zipping my coat, I realize I’ve got to tell the girls in Virginia about Georg. Somehow. They’re going to be all excited by the fact I’m with a prince, but I just know they’ll be royally (pardon the pun) pissed off at the same time, partially because of the David Anderson thing, and partially becausethey’re girly-girls and they won’t like that I didn’t tell them about Georg the very instant I met him—because who meets a prince every day?—let alone that I waited to tell them we’re an actual couple.
    And even though they won’t say it, probably even to each other, they’re also going to think it’s not fair that I get to live in a palace and date a prince, especially when all three of them are better looking than me. Well, Christie is definitely better looking—she’s tall and blonde and has a gorgeous, zit-free face, not to mention boobage. The kind most women get implanted. Jules and Natalie are fairly good-looking, too—they’re your typical cute brunettes. And Jules has the kind of attitude you’d think a world-wise prince would go for. (Which is probably why she had no qualms about ordering me to give Georg her e-mail addy and phone number.)
    But me, I’m a red-haired freak of nature. I’m so pale I practically glow in the dark, and I’m pretty ordinary personality-wise. Not great, not bad, just perfectly average .
    But the thing is—and this is theprimary reason I haven’t had the guts to tell my friends about Georg—they won’t get it. They’ll be all starry-eyed, equating Georg with the celebs we drool over during awards shows. They won’t realize that Georg is a real person , and that Georg and I have conversations about normal stuff like the whacked things our parents and our teachers do, and what kinds of music we like, and how soccer’s going for him. They’ll think—which, admittedly, I did at first—that his life is full of parties and that he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, because he’s famous (well, in Europe, anyway) and he has tons of money.
    They’ll wonder what the hell he’s doing with me, and conclude that I’m just some temporary Armor Girl holding his hand until a mega-wealthy, Prada-wearing, Euro-society girl comes along to hold it. It’s also occurred to me that they might think I’m lying, either because I’m lonely over here in Schwerinborg and want attention, or to make them stop pestering me about David.
    I guess I can’t blame them, though. I pestered them about David for years. Like,ever since David and I were assigned to take care of the class rabbit together in kindergarten and I fell hard for the guy and his way-blue eyes and slightly off-kilter smile. Someone who’s lusted after a guy the way I’ve lusted after David doesn’t just turn around one day and announce they’re seeing someone else—especially when the target of their lust is finally interested. If he’s really interested.
    “Hey, Valerie.” Georg’s smooth voice makes me jump as I reach for the handle on the door that leads outside, the one I use when I’m walking to school because it’s at the back of the palace and cuts five minutes off my walk.
    I turn to see Georg leaning against the wall, waiting for me and looking absolutely yummy in his black leather coat, a dark green sweater, and a pair of Levi’s. A sudden sour taste—guilt?—rises in my mouth at the sound of his voice, and I mentally chew myself out for even thinking of David.
    “Hey back,” I say. “Please tell me you didn’t get caught sneaking back into your room last night. I was really