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Get Dirty by Gretchen McNeil
Get Dirty by Gretchen McNeil







Get Dirty by Gretchen McNeil

” She let her voice trail off, and her eyes drifted back to the screen. “I have no idea,” she said, trying to sound utterly bewildered. “What is this?” Kitty looked down at him and desperately wished she had even an ounce of Olivia’s acting skills. Kitty couldn’t see him, only hear the general ruckus from the upper bleachers as he pounded his way downstairs.įather Uberti grabbed Kitty roughly by the shoulder. “Oh my God!” Coach Creed’s roar pierced the silence of the packed gym. “And I’m here”-he paused and pointed to the camera-“to give you three reasons why I’m going to win America’s Next Fitness Model.” “But you can call me Dick.” He wore a blue wifebeater two sizes too small, and his bulky arms looked as if he’d oiled them up with an entire tub of Crisco.

Get Dirty by Gretchen McNeil

“I’m Richard Creed,” he said, his best shit-eating grin plastered across his face. A sinewy arm yanked a chair into view and the burly figure of Coach Creed plopped down in front of the camera. The image on the screen froze, then blipped as the piggybacked player Bree had installed over the weekend took control of the playback.Īs promised, Margot’s tech had worked perfectly.Ī new image popped onto the screen: a bedroom, messy and disheveled. “At Bishop DuMaine, we’re a family, a team working together for the good of our school and of each-” The Muzak faded and a light voice chimed in. Only the students at Bishop DuMaine knew better. It was the kind of teen utopia adults envisioned for their kids, all perfectly understanding and cooperative and nice, the parental illusion of a modern high school.

Get Dirty by Gretchen McNeil

Generic Muzak played as a montage of photos faded in and out, depicting students of every shape, size, and color laughing, posing, eating lunch around the outdoor quad.

Get Dirty by Gretchen McNeil

The video player inside the AV room whirred to life, projecting a clear, ten-foot-tall image of the Bishop DuMaine logo on the screen above her head. Kitty watched Father Uberti out of the corner of her eye as he pulled an oversize remote control from the depths of his cassock and aimed it at a small window near the top of the far wall.









Get Dirty by Gretchen McNeil