Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 129955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
This is complete bullshit. I knew when I heard that someone was taking me in for the next two months, it was going to be a disaster. Who wants a kid like me for two months? Every single conversation I have with them tells me they’re only in it for the cash. Fuck, I hope some other poor kid doesn’t get stuck with them after I do. I’m just thankful that it’s only two months.
My stomach grumbles and my hand falls over it.
I can’t do this.
I have school tomorrow, and I can’t show up there after not eating for that long. I have to feed myself, but how? I can wait up until those assholes have gone to bed, or I can go and beg at a store. I have three dollars shoved down my bra, certainly not enough to get something for tonight and do breakfast and lunch tomorrow.
A frustrated sigh comes tearing out of me, and as I start reaching for the zip to kick off my thigh-high boots, an idea hits me like a wrecking ball—the cemetery party. There’s bound to be food lying around there, not to mention drinks to help me forget that I’m in a shitty situation. There were a shitload of people, most of them probably with deep pockets, plus those guys.
Hmm … intriguing.
A grin tears across my face as I feel my left tit to make sure my Ducati key is right where I left it. I cross the room before looking back at the door. No shadows are coming from under it and the house is silent.
I push up my window and slip straight through it before pushing the dog away as the fucker jumps up against my boots and scratches the shit out of them. I groan, sending up a silent prayer that my boots are alright. Just the thought of what I’d have to do to replace these boots will give me nightmares.
I close the window behind me.
After hurrying out the shitty gate, I throw my leg over my Ducati and hit the ignition before revving the shit out of my engine, the whole bike vibrating as the sound threatens to deafen me. I don’t doubt the whole neighborhood is waking up, but most of all, I hope it infuriates the dickheads living inside of this house.
Hitting the accelerator, I take off like a rocket, leaving a thick black line across the broken concrete of their driveway. I head straight back to the cemetery and within the space of ten minutes, I’m looking around at everything that’s going on, taking in my surroundings.
The black Escalade is no longer parked in the center of the party but has been moved to block the street so nobody can get in or out. I laugh at their pathetic attempts, as with my bike, I have absolutely no problem slipping past it.
The party doesn’t just take up the cemetery but has spilled out across the street. Music blasts from a set of speakers that are propped on top of a tomb and is practically shaking the ground, more than enough to wake the dead who reside below.
I take a deep breath and look around. This is definitely my kind of party. I should have just hung around before. Though one thing is for sure, after finding something to eat and seeing what other goodies I can take for myself, it’s going to be late before I get home to bed, and with school first thing in the morning, it’s going to be interesting.
People linger everywhere and I can already feel their curious stares. I bring the bike to a stop right up on the curb, but unlike the Escalade earlier, I keep it respectful and park my bike off to the side, away from any of the graves.
A wave of nerves comes shooting through me as I spare a thought for the four guys who had captured my attention before. They’re obviously still here, but I have absolutely no idea which guys they are. It was too dark to tell, and being at a distance, it was impossible.
I shake off the nerves. I may be the new chick, but I won’t let that stop me. I slip off my bike, being sure to put the stand down and set the alarm. Boys have a habit of touching things that they can’t have, and my Ducati has always been one of them. It wouldn’t be the first time, not even the second or third, that my alarm has gone off during a party. Luckily, the alarm is usually enough to scare them away so I’ve never had to worry.
There are people everywhere, and being the weird chick on a bike who’s been driving around town for the past few days, all eyes are on me.