Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
But he was right there, by my side, running his mouth. “I don’t think she would mess around on you.”
I snorted, shouldering through a group of girls fawning over my brother, then I hooked it around the corner, and Wolf was still behind me.
“She like...” He paused, then coughed like he was choking on something. “Loves you or some shit. I mean. Come on.”
What the hell did Wolf know about relationships or Monroe. “Go to class, Wolf.”
I went into the lab and flipped open my notes about some bullshit convalescence bonds and tried to ignore the empty feeling taking root in my chest, but that feeling only grew worse over the course of the day. By the time our English class came around, I wanted to skip. But I refused to be that pathetic dick.
I took a seat at the back of the room—where I sat before Monroe, and with every student that filed in, my chest grew tighter. The bell rang, and Mrs. Smith went to the head of the class. While she scribbled American Writers over the board, Monroe slipped inside and sank into her chair. She took one glance at the empty seat beside her, then opened her book.
My face warmed, anger brewing beneath my skin when I thought of the smile she had given Chase when she had hopped out of his car. The teacher passed around folded slips of paper, and I didn’t even bother to look at mine. I couldn’t focus on anything but how screwed up this was that a single person could take everything inside of me and rip it out with one single action. On how shit this was that I loved her and had thought she loved me. I looked away from the back of her head, spinning my pencil on the desk to try to clear my mind.
Mrs. Smith started around the class. Each student read the line from their piece of paper while the rest of the class guessed who the author was. When the teacher called on Monroe, she sighed, mumbling over her line: “The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.”
“Hemingway,” the girl beside me shouted. The irony of that quote did not go unmissed. I had trusted her when I shouldn’t have. My grip on the pencil tightened until the wood made a soft crack. Mrs. Smith called my name, and I unfolded the piece of paper, wishing I had looked at it before.
“It’s fucking bullshit,” I mumbled. Trying to keep my emotions in check. Yeah, karma was a dick.
“Mr. Hunt! Read the line.”
My jaw set. Heat ate me up from the inside out. “I love her and that’s the beginning and end of everything.”
“Fitzgerald,” Monroe said quietly, gathering her books, then pushing to her feet. “May I be excused?” She opened the door before Mrs. Smith had responded.
I crumpled the piece of paper in my palm, tapping the toe of my shoe over the floor for a moment before I got up. Mrs. Smith shouted for me to sit back down before the door slammed closed behind me. I started after Monroe, fuming and hurt. She reached the end of the hall, stopping by the fire exit.
“You realize this is your fault, right?” I yelled, my voice echoing from the lockers and down the empty hallway.
She spared a cold glance over her shoulder. “I hear you’re single now.” Then she opened the exit and stepped outside. The door banged shut behind her.
Two days ago, I had told her I loved her. I had every intention of spending the rest of my life with her, and now it felt like none of that ever mattered.
* * *
The past three days had felt like a fucking year. I had never been so glad for a Friday to roll around because I couldn’t take one more day in class with Monroe. Not that hanging out on Wolf’s roof was much better, seeing as how I was staring at her trailer. None of her lights were on. Jerry’s car wasn’t there, and neither was hers. I wondered if she was with Chase now, the bastard hadn’t been at school all week, probably because he knew he would get his ass handed to him.
Wolf passed me a beer before folding himself back into the lawn chair. “Sucks, dude.”
“Man, I don’t care.” I tipped my drink up.
Wolf knew it was a lie. I knew it was a lie, but it made me feel better to pretend I wasn’t torn up over it.
“I’m eighteen. What do I need a girl for?” Saying that caused a little ball of guilt to settle in my gut. Because I did need her.
“Yeah.” He huffed, then slouched lower in his chair before chugging his drink. “Why would we need a girl.” He fiddled with the ratty hemp bracelet on his arm, then sighed. “Fuck girls, dude. Just...” Another hard sigh.