TMI Read Online Free

want—”
    â€œOh, you are such a liar. If you really don’t want him, why does your face light up like Broadway when you see him?”
    It did not . Meg was so done with this conversation. “Shut up. I’m mad at you.”
    Bailey pouted and twisted a curl. “You love me.”
    She did. But she was really mad too.
    Bailey pursed her lips and shook her head. “So. Spill. What did he say the last time you went to the museum?”
    Meg frowned, remembering. In February, she and Chase had been partnered up on a research paper. They’d grown close—too close—during the month it took to research their topic, the objectification of women in modern art. She’d been excited by the assignment. Chase had been excited by his assigned partner. “We saw a print of The Scream by Edvard Munch. Chase saw it and said, ‘Hey, this guy’s an artist too? I thought he just produced horror movies.’”
    Bailey blinked. “What’s so wrong with that? At least he knew his name. That’s more than I would have gotten right.”
    She spoke quietly, but there was a sting in her tone, and Meg squirmed under the sudden attack of conscience. “You’re right,” Meg said quietly. “That was snobby and mean and ungrateful and—”
    â€œMeg, stop! I never said that. Look. I’m just saying, Chase is trying. You should too.”
    Bailey scooped her books from the table, snagged her tray, and left Meg standing in the shadow of her own ego.

Chapter 2
Bailey
    In the girls’ locker room, Bailey blotted and dabbed and rubbed and wiped at the red streaks all over her True Religion jeans that had cost all of her birthday money, which Meg would totally have a cow about if she knew, and Bailey wasn’t about to press Play on that song. Meg never spent her money unless it was for art supplies. She was all about saving for college and the future and—and her freakin’ retirement. Meg was always planning, planning, planning and wasn’t happy unless she had plans for her plans. Hell, even breaking up with Simon was a Meg Plan!
    Her heart hurt when she thought of it. Simon looked so sad under all that tough guy acting. Maybe Meg was wrong. Maybe Simon had a really good reason for flirting with what’s-her-face. He was so pretty, with his blond hair, blue eyes, and movie star life. She’d believed him when he told her she was hot. She’d believed him when he told her she was the only girl in his life. He’d been the one who got her hooked on video games back in ninth grade—first Halo and then Call of Duty and, after that, Portal . When Bailey showed not just interest but actual skill, Simon finally asked her out this semester, and she fell with a splat.
    He was so cool on their first date. He did all those gentlemanly things like hold doors open and pull out chairs, and he never tried any moves. He took her to a nice restaurant, asked her a bunch of questions, and really listened to her answers. He walked her to do her door, asked if he could see her again, and promised to call. She walked inside, hurried up the stairs to her room, and flipped on the light, and her phone buzzed. He told her he’d had a great time and couldn’t wait to ask her to breakfast the next morning. Swooning, Bailey agreed. The next morning, he picked her up, drove to Bailey’s favorite game store, and handed her a bagel while they waited for the doors to open. Meg thought that was lame, but Bailey deemed it the perfect date. That was when he kissed her for the first time. Oh, that kiss! She brushed her lips, not surprised they still tingled. It was amazing and romantic and perfect, and every date was just like that one. They’d been great together. Or so she’d thought.
    And then somewhere along the line, he’d stopped respecting her . Little things at first. So little that Bailey hadn’t even noticed them. Things like