скачать книгу бесплатно
Played
Liz Fichera
This Game Is Getting All Too RealSam Tracy likes to stay under the radar and hang out with his friends from the Rez. But when he saves rich suburban princess Riley Berenger from falling off a mountain, she decides to try to save him. Riley promises to help Sam win the heart of the girl he can't get over, and suddenly Sam is mad popular and on everyone's hot list. Except now Riley's trying out some brand-new bad-girl moves and turning both of their lives upside down.
This Game Is Getting All Too Real
Sam Tracy likes to stay under the radar and hang out with his friends from the Rez. But when he saves rich suburban princess Riley Berenger from falling off a mountain, she decides to try to save him. Riley promises to help Sam win the heart of the girl he can’t get over, and suddenly Sam is mad popular and on everyone’s hot list. Except now Riley’s trying out some brand-new bad-girl moves and turning both of their lives upside down.
PRAISE FOR LIZ FICHERA’S YA DEBUT
HOOKED
“Fred is a likable heroine, both loyal to her community and determined to create a different life for herself….The high level of emotional drama will appeal to fans of contemporary teen romances, and readers with a special interest in books with Native American characters will be interested in the raw clash of cultures depicted in an Arizona community.”
—Booklist
“This is Fichera’s debut teen novel, and she immerses the reader in the culture of the Southwestern Native American way of life.”
—VOYA magazine
“I love Fred—she’s sporty, smart, stands up for herself and goes after what she wants.”
—Miranda Kenneally, author of Catching Jordan and Stealing Parker
“From the very first pages, this powerful story about the fight for tolerance, equality, understanding and love will have you ‘hooked.’”
—Megan Bostic, author of Never Eighteen
“I love this book so much!…Now that I’ve read it, I can say it’s one of my favourites I’ve read this year…It’s like Perfect Chemistry (one of my fave books ever!) and Catching Jordan and golf!”
—Jana, The Book Goddess
“Honestly, I did not understand what I was getting myself into when I picked up this book. It was crazy amazing! I was intrigued by the story because it was a new idea to me. It was great and I would recommend it to anyone who wants something cute that is a little bit different.”
—Gabie, Owl Eyes Reviews
“Hooked is exactly the right title for this one, because hooked is what I was from page one on. Liz Fichera has written a masterpiece about the troubles of high school, acceptance and how to be yourself.”
—Erica, The Book Cellar
“Hooked is one of the best contemporary YA novels that I’ve read since Pushing the Limits. It is a stunning story about what happens when two people from opposite ends of life fall for each other….Fichera’s words are compelling and gorgeous, creating a truly fantastic novel.”
—Bailey, I B Book Blogging
Books by Liz Fichera
available from Mira Ink
HOOKED
PLAYED
Played
Liz Fichera
www.miraink.co.uk (http://www.miraink.co.uk)
For Craig
Contents
Epigraph (#u892e3770-476c-5057-9cff-b91cf92c5d78)
Chapter 1 (#u755b20e4-ead3-5819-97d0-297150d6e168)
Chapter 2 (#u019387e0-c02a-5da0-8612-7a479f243319)
Chapter 3 (#u4bb60b1d-c1ee-58f1-b406-36c155feaf06)
Chapter 4 (#u532a64ee-242f-5f1d-a676-da5c57f25608)
Chapter 5 (#ua384bd2e-3dab-574c-9f37-9e4e51023c16)
Chapter 6 (#ub653b447-d535-5489-9f96-8dc56bbbdcc0)
Chapter 7 (#u48514693-8fed-5870-832c-4a2b741b221d)
Chapter 8 (#u825032a7-5f47-5cb1-bda3-7711549810a1)
Chapter 9 (#uff4ede30-4292-57ef-9e19-1a7b88f3d5c0)
Chapter 10 (#ua69d7f98-ffe8-5205-b55e-319fee9a0dbd)
Chapter 11 (#u8853eb1d-3d91-5356-9aa1-978f018848af)
Chapter 12 (#ucbd01925-69ab-5ef6-b6b1-7b05c83ae92f)
Chapter 13 (#ub9253017-3c62-5667-998d-07a97c7581d0)
Chapter 14 (#uc6f0c357-2dab-5b3c-9942-557140c76140)
Chapter 15 (#u5e642e83-fe7c-530e-9b5d-71b311aa0bce)
Chapter 16 (#ua10384b1-c995-545b-ad9b-a12c6caf3d26)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 37 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 38 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 39 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 40 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 41 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 42 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 43 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 44 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 45 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 46 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 47 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 48 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 49 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 50 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 51 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 52 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 53 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 54 (#litres_trial_promo)
Acknowledgments (#litres_trial_promo)
Discussion Questions (#litres_trial_promo)
We know what we are,
but know not what we may be.
—William Shakespeare
1
Riley
Being the good daughter wasn’t easy.
First there was the guilt that gnawed at my self-esteem like a leech whenever I didn’t live up to my parents’ expectations. That guilt could be triggered by the smallest of things. Like when I snapped at Mom before school because I was late and she didn’t appreciate my lipstick shade, and she looked back at me with wide eyes as if wondering whether I was her real daughter or an imposter from outer space. Or when I pulled a B on a chemistry test (my least favorite subject) instead of the A Mom and Dad wanted. For the rest of the day, my anxiety was on overdrive.
Second, because I’ve had to overcompensate for my loser older brother for, like, ever, old habits were hard to break. The worse he behaved, the better I behaved, because I was the Designated Good Daughter, remember? So when Ryan would come home reeking of cigarettes and beer, or sometimes not at all, and Dad would corner me about him in the family room, I’d make excuses for him. “He had to go upstairs” or “He’s getting a cold” were my standbys as I feigned interest in whatever was playing on television. Being the perfect daughter, I got away with my little white lies, and my parents overlooked my brother’s shortcomings. It was easier that way. And even though Ryan had recently achieved Good Son status thanks to his new girlfriend, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to continue to be the glue that kept my family together.
Which was why it made no sense that I’d been going out of my way the past few months to be the Undesignated Bad Daughter. It was like there was another person inside of me with her hands on the controls, pushing my arms and legs, my mouth. My brain. She was definitely stronger than the normal, good me. But this strong part of me kept my confused and frustrated parts together, the ones that I tried to keep hidden from everybody.
You see, being the good daughter wasn’t something I wanted. It was just the way the universe arranged things. No rhyme or reason. I’d give anything for a do-over, a chance at some normalcy. A chance to make mistakes and not always feel like bad behavior meant I deserved banishment to a black vortex.
“Just one teeny prick, Riley. Maybe two, at most. Between your eyebrows. You’ll never feel a thing,” Drew said. “It’ll make you look hot.” Drew Zuniga had been in dance club with me at Lone Butte High School since freshman year. She was pretty much my only friend, but I was a quality-over-quantity kind of girl—at least, that’s what I told myself. It made my friend situation seem Zen instead of serving as reminder that I wasn’t very popular, despite having a popular older brother. We had gotten into the habit of chilling at her house after dance practice. It totally beat walking home, especially during the hotter months which, in Phoenix, Arizona, was pretty much every month. And walking was for freshman. The best part was that Drew had gotten a car for her sixteenth birthday and could ferry us around. I had to wait three more months before I’d get to pick out my own car, which was as good as waiting for forever. Today we were standing in her bathroom as I watched her point a clear syringe-like thingy at my face. It was freaky crazy, actually, but Drew was my friend. I trusted her.
The syringe was filled with some type of BOTOX concoction, pilfered from her dad’s medicine cabinet. Dr. Zuniga was a plastic surgeon and brought home BOTOX injections for Mrs. Zuniga, who, in her defense, did look like she could fit in with the popular seniors at our school. From a distance, at least.
