Free The Secret Society of the Pink Crystal Ball by Risa Green Page A

up and down appreciatively.
    Lindsay and I both stare at him, our mouths agape.
    â€œWhat did you just say?” Lindsay asks.
    â€œI said ‘smexy,’” he repeats, without a hint of embarrassment. “You know. Smart and sexy. Like a hot librarian. In a good way.” He smiles again, as if amused by our adoration, and then continues his stroll down the hall. “See ya,” he calls out over his shoulder.
    â€œDid you…” Lindsay asks, still too stunned to even finish her sentence.
    â€œYeah.” I know what she’s thinking. And even though my instinct is to start screaming and jumping up and down because Spencer Ridgely just commented on my appearance—“in a good way”—I have to put that instinct on hold for a second in order to set Lindsay straight. “It’s a coincidence,” I say sternly. “That’s all it is.”
    Before Lindsay can argue with me, Samantha comes walking up from one of her illegal, off-campus lunch excursions. Only juniors and seniors are allowed to leave school during lunch period, but the rent-a-cop who’s supposed to check school IDs in the parking lot is totally in love with her, and he lets her go out whenever she feels like it. Most days, she’ll flirt with a dorky junior who has a car, and she’ll get him to give her a ride to wherever Aiden is going for lunch that day. Then she’ll sit across the room and make seductive eyes at him while he ignores her and makes out with Trance. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve heard. From Lindsay, of course—although, come to think of it, how would she know?
    â€œOh my God, you guys,” Samantha gushes. “I just heard the greatest story about Chloe Carlyle.” Samantha is wearing black leggings with a long hot pink T-shirt and her mother’s black Dolce & Gabbana motorcycle boots. Her hair is in a ponytail and little pieces have fallen out around her face, framing it perfectly. As usual, she looks like she’s about to strut down a catwalk.
    â€œSo Brittany and Megan were in the bathroom and they didn’t know I was in there, and Brittany was telling Megan about how Chloe sang the national anthem at her little brother’s hockey game or something last night, and Chloe didn’t know the words. She sang, ‘the lambs that we watched were all gallantly screaming.’ And everyone was laughing at her and saying she was stupid, and I guess Brittany was there too for some reason, and Chloe made her swear not to tell anyone about it. But of course Brittany went straight to Megan and blabbed the whole thing. Isn’t that awesome?”
    She looks down at us, and I wonder how it is even possible that she just said all of that without taking a single breath.
    â€œWait a minute, what are you doing sitting on the floor?” She glances at Lindsay and crinkles her nose. “And why is your face all splotchy?”
    â€œWe were in the cafeter—” I start to explain, but Lindsay interrupts me.
    â€œYou are not going to believe this,” she gasps. “Spencer Ridgely just walked by, and he told Erin that she’s smexy.”
    Samantha’s mouth drops open. “Nuh-uh,” she says. She blinks at me. “Really?”
    I nod at her and, I’ll admit, I’m having kind of a hard time containing my excitement. I mean, hello, Spencer Ridgely just noticed me. Spencer . Ridgely .
    â€œâ€˜Like a hot librarian’ were his exact words! Can you believe that?” I’m about to give her a play-by-play of the entire encounter, from him staring at my thighs to our eyes locking to the casual see ya over his shoulder, when I suddenly realize, that in all of my excitement, I’ve forgotten to be the rational one. So instead I let out a little fake cough, put my serious face back on, and try to act like it was no big deal. “I mean, yes, he did say that. But, as I was just saying to Lindsay,