Sara Shepard - Toxic
Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Sara Shepard - Toxic» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Год выпуска: 2014, Издательство: HarperCollins, Жанр: Современная проза, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.
- Название:Toxic
- Автор:
- Издательство:HarperCollins
- Жанр:
- Год:2014
- ISBN:нет данных
- Рейтинг книги:5 / 5. Голосов: 1
-
Избранное:Добавить в избранное
- Отзывы:
-
Ваша оценка:
- 100
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
Toxic: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация
Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «Toxic»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.
Toxic — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком
Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «Toxic», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.
Интервал:
Закладка:
It suddenly felt so hot inside the room. Hanna turned and fled for the side door, needing some air. She exited into the same alley that had spooked her the other day, though it was now bright, airy, and completely unthreatening. She peered down at the pavement. The BreAk a leg, Hanna message was gone.
“ Ouch ,” said a voice. Hanna turned around. Jared had stepped out onto the ramp next to her.
Hanna nodded, gesturing to the building. “Should I go to Hailey’s dressing room and see if she’s okay?”
Jared shook his head. “Let her cool down. Call her tomorrow.” He ran his hands over his thick hair. “It sucks, though. They’ll have to replace her on such short notice.”
Hanna rolled her jaw. She hadn’t thought about that. “Who do you think they’ll get?”
“I don’t know, but hopefully someone way better.”
Hanna’s thoughts began to churn. Maybe that was a good thing. Hanna’s character would be redeemed. No one would make fun of her once the film came out. And Hailey would find something else, wouldn’t she? She was a huge star. Her agent probably had something lined up already.
“Like Lucy Hale,” she suggested, suddenly excited. “Or maybe that cute girl on that Netflix series?”
“Actually, I think you should go for it.”
Hanna blinked hard. Jared was staring at her with a completely serious expression. “Excuse me?” she blurted.
Jared sidled closer. “I’m serious,” he murmured. “You’re good—really good. Hank can’t stop talking about you. And we both already know you make a better Hanna Marin than Hailey. . . .”
He smiled leadingly, one eyebrow raised. Hanna lowered her eyes, feeling guilty about what she’d said to Jared about Hailey’s performance—and about the kiss.
But it was true. Hanna thought about how Hank had done nothing but praise her after every scene. Sure, the Hanna role was more demanding and time-consuming than the Naomi part, but Hanna could handle it. Anyway, why hire another actress when the real Hanna was right here, ready and waiting?
Was Hanna ready and waiting? Could she ask for the role? She thought of something Hailey had said in New York: Never pass up an opportunity. You never know where it’s going to take you .
Jared shifted his weight. When Hanna looked up, he was studying her closely, a whisper of a smile on his face as if he knew what Hanna was thinking. “Talk to Hank,” he urged. “All he can say is no.” And then, patting her arm, he turned on his heel and went back to the soundstage.
22
A TOUR AND AN A
Thursday evening, Aria stood on the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum as the sun set. Though the museum was almost closed, visitors were still lingering, eating pretzels from the cart at the foot of the steps, racing up and down the stairs like Sylvester Stallone in Rocky , or listening to a saxophone player belt out a rendition of “Let It Be.”
Then a neon-green car with PHILADELPHIA QUICK CAB printed on the side pulled up to the curb, and Harrison, dressed in crisp jeans and a gingham button-down, climbed out. When he spied Aria, his whole face lit up. Aria waved happily.
“Hey!” he cried after bounding up the stairs to meet her. He leaned forward and gave Aria a hug. Aria sighed happily, inhaling the sandalwood smell of his coat.
“Ready for this?” Harrison asked when he pulled away.
Aria ducked her head, suddenly feeling shy. “A private tour in the museum? Of course I’m ready.”
“It’s the least I could do,” Harrison said earnestly.
Harrison had sent her a text this morning telling her how many comments the article had already received, though she’d been too afraid to look at them herself. He’d also added that he’d scored several new advertisers and had been asked to be an “expert” on an art-scene retrospective the New York Times was writing for its Sunday edition. At this rate, he’d said, he could actually start making money from the blog and quit his part-time bartending job.
As he reached for her hand, he looked intimately into her eyes, and Aria held his gaze. She wanted to go slowly with Harrison, but whenever he looked at her like that, it felt like there were horse hooves pounding in her chest. Which was a welcome feeling, especially after seeing Noel and Scarlett in Best Buy.
Not that she was really dwelling on that or anything.
They started up the stairs toward the museum. Everyone was streaming out instead of going in. “How’d you manage to score an after-hours tour, anyway?” Aria asked.
Harrison smiled. “The perks of being just the teensiest bit connected. A lot of art critics get to go after-hours to all the museums—that way they can really see the works without fighting the tourists. All it took was one phone call— and a mention of your name.”
Aria gasped. Her name had clout?
Harrison held the door open for her. “But actually, I was hoping you’d give me the tour. The Philly Art Museum, Aria Montgomery–style.”
Aria cocked her head. “I’d be honored, Mr. Überblogger.”
They walked into the lobby, which Aria knew like the back of her hand. It was strange to see the place so empty, no hustle and bustle of kids racing for the armor and weaponry rooms or the gift shop. An echo spiraled from high above, and then came a loud clank. Aria looked around nervously. She didn’t like the idea of being totally alone.
But then a guard appeared from around the corner. A girl stepped out of the coat-check room, shrugging into a jacket. Aria breathed out.
She and Harrison walked past a table of flyers about upcoming events and a large desk about membership opportunities. Then Aria felt the slightest pang. She and Noel had come to the museum a few months ago, and they’d stood right in front of the membership desk, arguing about what to see. Of course Noel wanted to visit the ancient hatchets and swords, but Aria had insisted on seeing a new exhibit of eighteenth-century children’s apparel first. In the end, she’d gotten her way.
She winced. Was she always that pushy? Was that why Noel didn’t want to see her anymore? Maybe he’d taken stock of all their differences and realized how little they really had in common. That had to be it, because last night, when she’d stalked Scarlett on Facebook—the girl had been asking for it by giving her last name—she’d discovered that she went to a preppy private school in Devon, was totally into horses, was the captain of her cheerleading team, and almost certainly had no idea what differentiated a Kandinsky from a Rothko. In other words, the complete opposite of Aria.
She caught herself. You don’t care . She was here with a boy, after all. She’d moved on just like Noel had.
A docent rushed up to them, a big smile on her face. “Mr. Miller! Ms. Montgomery! It’s lovely to see you. I’m Amy, and I’m so thrilled you made it.” She pinned little buttons that had pictures of the museum’s winged-horse logo on their shirts. “Do you want a guided tour?”
“No, we’ll be all right on our own,” Aria insisted.
Amy scuttled off, saying she’d check on them later.
“Come on,” Aria said to Harrison, skipping up the marble steps, suddenly filled with confidence. “Our tour starts now.”
She led him to her favorite part of the museum, the contemporary-art wing. The rooms were empty, and only one guard stood at the main entrance, tapping on his phone. At first, Aria and Harrison walked around the perimeters, silently studying the art. Then Aria began to pick out her favorite pieces. She pointed at Three-Part Windows , by Robert Delaunay, a Cubist masterpiece of shapes signifying the Eiffel Tower views out a window. “I wish I could paint something like that,” she sighed. “It’s so evocative.”
Читать дальшеИнтервал:
Закладка:
Похожие книги на «Toxic»
Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «Toxic» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё непрочитанные произведения.
Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «Toxic» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.