Free Other Side of Beautiful (A Beautifully Disturbed #1) by Sarah Zolton Arthur Page A

car on New Year’s. Worrying about her drinking. He constantly asks me how she’s doing. And Collin had suggested Benton found his Ms. Right. Of course he blindsided me. I mean, he’s never even asked her out. Kelly is as beautiful as they come, but I never saw this coming. The two of them together just doesn’t make any sense. She’s high maintenance. He’s laid back. Where she’s all about the party, he’s dedicated in his pursuit of the written word. The two of them are like that Taylor Swift song. Incarnate.
    Worse, she invited him knowing full well how I feel about him. So I don’t want it to make sense. Selfish, I know. If Kelly is who he really wants, who am I to get in the way? But I also know hanging around the two of them as a couple just can’t happen, at least not until I’ve moved on. Suddenly, being trapped in Chicago with the two of them has really lost its appeal.
    “You going to PWMA this year?” Benton asks, casually leaning back in the seat. He’s a sight to behold, sprawled out in the most comfortable way someone his height could adjust to in my tiny clown car. Wow, I have to get control of these thoughts if he wants to be with Kelly. Coveting your best friend’s boyfriend will forever be a no-no in my book.
    “Brontë, still with me?”
    The writing conference, right. “I want to. It depends on if I can find a roommate. The room is too expensive on my own. That and travel. You and Col are going?”
    “Yeah, we just booked our room. Bri and Errol are going too.”
    “I have ‘til March, right?”
    “It falls over spring break.”
    We don’t speak after that. He settles in the backseat, wearing headphones to help him concentrate on homework so he can enjoy the weekend, while I stay focused on the road.
    My phone buzzes in the cup holder of the center console. Cricket. Not today. I hit decline and continue driving, though my mind fixates on what she might be calling about, calling so soon. We usually go at least a month between her hate-fueled checkins. Just to be safe, I turn the ringer off completely.
    All thoughts of Cricket get shoved into the trunk and locked away for later once we descend on the Second City, which in my opinion is second to no one, because when the lights of the downtown hit, they hit big. That moment when you first see the skyline, especially at night, there are no words. Of course, I can always find plenty of words for parking—the majority rhyming with pluck. It takes us fifteen minutes to find an empty spot. Most of the lots close by are filled already, and with an hour before the doors open to stand in line out front of the Metro in the frigid Chicago winter. And Kelly didn’t bring a coat. Her ass cheeks hang out the bottom of her flaming red skirt and the black corset pushes her boobs up to her neck, but no coat.
    Prince Charming shrugs out of his camo army jacket, draping it around her shoulders. The duck fabric hangs past her knees while he shivers in just a gray hoodie he’d put on before getting out of the car. It’s like a giant frat party with all the pretty boys and prettier girls as underdressed as Kel waiting to get in. I want to scold each and every one of them for their poor life choices. As far as atmosphere, it reminds me of New Year’s in Times Square, the more people in line pushing toward the front, the more body heat warms the air around us. Finally the line surges forward, splitting into two lines up by the door—one for people with tickets in hand, and one for those like us who’d bought them online. Our names sit closer to the top of a list a blue-haired chick checks off as we flash her our IDs.
    Inside smells of funk and piss and weed. I grab both Benton’s and Kelly’s hands, leading them about halfway to the stage off to the left. Pop Fest might not be my scene, but I’ve been to a couple concerts here before. If they can trust anything about me, it has to be my skill in the concert-going arts. Our spot is choice, with a