Bad Boy. Olivia Goldsmith
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OLIVIA GOLDSMITH
BAD BOY
To Nunzio Nappi As long as I can sit in the front seat
Contents
The sky was the same gray-white as the skim milk Tracie poured into her coffee. But that was what she loved about Seattle. It definitely wasn’t Encino, where the sky was always a glorious blue, as empty of clouds as her house had been empty of people. As an only child with parents in “The Industry,” Tracie had spent too many hours staring at that sky. No more empty blue for her. It made her feel as if she should be happy when she wasn’t. Here in Seattle, any happiness against the overcast arc above seemed a reward.
Before Tracie had come here to college, she’d considered East Coast schools, but she wasn’t brave enough for them. She’d read about Dorothy Parker, Sylvia Plath, and the Seven Sisters. Uh-uh. She knew, though, that she