The Guilty Friend. Joanne Sefton

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Guilty Friend - Joanne Sefton страница 6

The Guilty Friend - Joanne Sefton

Скачать книгу

street away from her and sometimes they would walk home together off the bus. Maybe she’d made more of an impression than she’d thought.

      ‘Oh my God.’ She turned to her friends. ‘It’s Dylan Stanton. It’s actually him. He likes me. OM-fucking-G. What the fuck am I going to do?’

      And the girls were hyped, because they knew she liked Stanno, although she would never have told them quite how much. Claire’s face lit with excitement and happiness for her, and then, just as suddenly, it crumpled.

      Tash’s stomach turned to ice. She turned, following Claire’s gaze, to look over her shoulder. Lola Shirini swooped like a vampire bat, her glossy Kate Middleton hair swinging and her phone thrusting into Tash’s face as her laughter ripped through the quad.

      ‘She actually fell for it. Look at her! Little Miss Boffin-Head is in luurve with Dylan Stanton. Can you imagine it? Like he’d send a card to her – as if!’

      The three or four worker bees she’d brought along for the ride swayed around laughing, making out like they were pissing themselves or unable to stay upright. The blood that had rushed to Tash’s cheeks a few moments earlier was now joined by what felt like the rest of the blood in her entire body and an army of fire ants. Her face was blazing like an exploding oil tanker.

      She stood up and shoved the card into Lola’s free hand.

      ‘Take it back then – it’s not like I care.’ She choked out the last couple of words in a sob, aware even as she said it that it was a pretty pathetic effort at a comeback.

      Of course, when she was stewing at home that evening, she came up with about seventeen razor-sharp ripostes that would have left Lola for dead. But none of those were featured on the video that was instantly being shared all over WhatsApp and Snapchat. Tasha knew that even kids in other years who wouldn’t have had a clue who she was that morning would be pointing and laughing when she went back into school the next day.

      She wondered if it was true that Saint Valentine lived in Italy a zillion years ago and they made him a saint because he married couples so the husbands wouldn’t have to go to war. Woot woot for them. She would bet he didn’t realise the depths of misery he was storing up for generations of innocent schoolgirls, did he? Wanker.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABQAAD/4QODaHR0cDov L25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wLwA8P3hwYWNrZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENl aGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRhIHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4 OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjAtYzA2MSA2NC4xNDA5NDksIDIwMTAvMTIvMDctMTA6 NTc6MDEgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5zOnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5 OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHht bG5zOnhtcE1NPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvbW0vIiB4bWxuczpzdFJlZj0i aHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3NUeXBlL1Jlc291cmNlUmVmIyIgeG1sbnM6eG1w PSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvIiB4bXBNTTpPcmlnaW5hbERvY3VtZW50SUQ9 InhtcC5kaWQ6RjU2MzUxRDcwRDIwNjgxMTgyMkFCRjAzMkIzRkQ5RjEiIHhtcE1NOkRvY3VtZW50 SUQ9InhtcC5kaWQ6NzUxRTFBMkM1NTM5MTFFOTk0NzNDODd

Скачать книгу