Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“What is it about her?” he asks, sitting back and looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. Like we’re strangers, like I’ve ever needed a reason to dislike or even fucking hate somebody. Suddenly, the rules have changed. Wren has, I don’t know, soothed him or something.
“Shit, I’m gonna be late for class,” Carter interrupts things, and I want to thank him once I notice the time. Not because he’s keeping me from being late, but because he’s just the distraction I needed. I’ve never admitted to my friends what happened between us, and I never will. I’m not one of those people who gets off on being humiliated.
It’s a shame I have to rush across the quad in this heat, but my PoliSci professor has a hair up his ass when it comes to people being late. Even though I’m not exactly a nobody around here—if anything, he might want to make an example out of me. I don’t need Dad bitching me out.
The whole way, with the sun blazing down on me and heat practically sucking the air out of my lungs, there’s only one thing I can think about. Only one person whose image sits in the front of my mind. I might be looking at a beautifully landscaped campus, but I see Maya’s blazing, hate-filled eyes. Maya’s sneer. Leave me alone. God dammit, why do I let her do this to me?
So, of course, I’m in a bitter sort of mood by the time I drop into the first empty chair in the lecture hall. She hasn’t come in yet. Maybe she was too busy talking to Wren and being a shitty friend to notice the time. The girl tries so damn hard.
And to think, Maya has the nerve to talk shit at me for having a change of heart. Coming around, accepting my friend’s girlfriend. Meanwhile, she has to know she’s Wren’s only friend and that it makes her unhappy to basically be ignored. Does she care? No.
Here she is. Just like in the cafeteria, she’s the only person wearing pants. Her face is red, shiny with sweat, and the hair at the nape of her neck is darker than the rest. What is she trying to prove with the fucking jeans? Everybody’s already sweaty as hell as it is.
By the time class starts, it’s pretty obvious to me what’s going on—she’s hiding. It’s the same reason she slapped me and shoved me away last night when I got too close to what she’s trying to hide. The same reason she didn’t want to put on a bathing suit. Why did it take me so long to figure it out?
Oh, right. Because I was too busy being pissed that she pushed me away. Again.
Not this time. This time, I want answers. I want to know what she’s doing to herself. I didn’t imagine what I felt under my fingertips. The jeans only convince me I’m right. I knew she was fucked in the head, but I didn’t think it went this far.
Especially since the last time I had my hands on her, there were only a couple of scars that could easily have been explained away if I had asked about them, I’m sure.
That was a long time ago. Obviously, she’s been busy. I want to know how busy. I don’t know why and don’t feel like trying to figure it out. I only know by the time class is over—a class I paid no attention to—that I will not leave campus today without seeing for myself what she’s trying to hide. Let her hide it from the rest of the world if she wants to. Not from me. If anything, she owes me. This doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.
I’m out of my seat before the professor has fully dismissed us, the first one out the door so I can wait in the hall for Maya to leave the room. She can only come out this way, so there’s no avoiding me. It doesn’t take long for her to bolt through the door like there’s a fire behind her, almost running with her head down and her shoulders up around her ears. Like that is going to do anything to spare her from me.
“Hey. I have to talk to you.” It takes no time or effort to catch her and clamp an arm around her waist. Her body goes stiff in response before she tries to pull away, but she’s no match for me. She never has been.
“Why can’t you leave it alone already? What is wrong with you?” Her mouth is moving, but I don’t give a shit about what’s coming out of it as I pull her into an empty room and close the door, standing with my back against it so there’s no hope of her getting out until I say she can.