Page 66 (1/2)

Prologue

Eleven Years Earlier

"Don't you dare do it, Kyle Richards," I said, , of course I felt tears like pinpricks into come out and humiliate me even further

"Why? Will the little-wittle bookworant, handsome face mocked mine

"No," I said, ive it back"

Kyle looked at the heavy textbook he was holding, the one he'd ripped out of rinned wickedly as he bent over it and read in a fake-clinical voice, "'First e ten'"

"Y'all don't have anyI only let nized it as a warning sign and backed off

"Y'all?" Kyle asked, raising his eyebrows "There's only one of me here, Lo See, this is why people think Texans are dumb"

Fury bubbled inside my chest

"'Feirls will start to experience breast development at this time'" He peered at me from over the book "Present company excluded, of course"

Don't you dare cry, Lowell Barton I dug my nails into my palms Don't you dare let that boy see you cry

He went back to reading aloud "'If you're self-conscious, youbra,' which is another word for a bra for girls with absolutely no boobs" He laughed at his own joke, little snorts erupting from the back of his throat

"Give It BACK!" I roared, and lunged at hi hi bra, I'll have you know!"

There was a look of shock on his handsoht I wore a training bra—or if he was surprised that I was hitting him with a thick textbook It was entitled Huled it out of the local library without checking it out

I sled it out because I was eht before Kyle tried to swat the book out of ht red blood spurted from his nose

I watched for a second, frozen, as blood ran in rivulets down his face He dabbed his fingers in it then exaed to someone else

"For the record, y'all can be used in the singular," I said,

Then, before he could come after me, I ran

Lowell

"I shouldn't be drinking this," I said through a mouthful of delicious tequila and salt "Too many calories"

"Do not let those assholes get to you," my best friend, Tori, said She pushed one of her dark-brown curls off her face, fu "You're not fat I don't care what the stupid director said"

"He didn't say I was fat—he said h too h too h too ulp of my drink "And he's not just a stupid director He's a stupid successful director Lucas Dresden is a Hollywood god And he told hs less before we start shooting those chase scenes on the beach"

Tori looked as if sood that ere in a crowded bar in Venice or she would probably have started yelling a litany of obscenities about Lucas Dresden, my dick director

"What did you say?" she asked, showing remarkable restraint