Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 207638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1038(@200wpm)___ 831(@250wpm)___ 692(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1038(@200wpm)___ 831(@250wpm)___ 692(@300wpm)
He doesn’t say anything to that. Again, I knew he wouldn’t.
Instead he looks me over.
He studies my face, my braided hair that’s held together with a mustard-colored ribbon. He even eyes my uniform skirt, my Mary Janes.
I try to stand tall and straight under his heavy scrutiny, under his sparkling wolf eyes.
The scrutiny that makes me feel like a young schoolgirl while he stands there in his grown-up business suit, making sure that I’m okay.
Because that’s what he’s doing. I know.
He’s making sure that no harm has somehow befallen me in the six hours that I’ve been at school.
In the six hours since he last saw me.
Because he drops me off at school in the mornings as well.
“Everything go okay?” he asks, reaching out to take my backpack from me.
See? He was making sure I was okay. And he thinks I can’t carry heavy things such as my backpack.
I nod, looking at his face. “Yeah.”
The bruises that Ledger gave him don’t look as angry but they’re still there, pockmarking his features. Again making him look more criminal in his suit than civil.
I notice an old scrape pulsing angrily, just by his jaw. “What happened here?”
“What?”
I raise my hand and touch it, his jaw, and it clenches. “Here. It looks like you scraped your old cut.”
Reed stares into my eyes for a second before replying gruffly, “I might’ve… scratched something.”
“Your stubble,” I conclude and he shrugs in acquiescence. “You need to be more careful, Reed. Your old cuts —”
“Any morning sickness?” he asks, cutting me off and stepping away from my touch, as if he’s done with the topic of his cuts.
As if he’s done letting me worry over him.
I lower my hand and fist my tingling fingers. “A little.”
His features tighten up. “Were you able to eat something?”
“Salad.”
He tells me what he thinks of it by exhaling sharply.
My morning sickness has gotten worse over the past few days and Reed hates it that I have to endure it during classes. My brothers hate it too and together, for an insane second, they thought that I should stop going to school altogether until it passes.
I put my foot down though. I put my foot down on some of their other plans too, but that’s neither here nor there.
Anyway I told them that if they wanted me to not quit school and get a job then I’m doing this the right way. Meaning I’m going to classes and I’m doing my homework and keeping my grades up.
They had to relent.
But I think it was mostly because Conrad is now the soccer coach and he knew he was going to be here to keep an eye on me after Reed dropped me off.
“Someone say something to you?” he asks then and I fidget with my skirt slightly.
Yes.
“No,” I lie to him.
He frowns. “You sure?”
Well, no.
Someone did say something to me. A group of someones. Girls from junior year I think. They didn’t so much say something to me as at me.
It was during lunch.
I was getting my salad and they pointed at my tray and giggled and they may have mimed throwing up. Or something like that.
To be fair, I had thrown up only an hour before. I had to rush out of class in order to do that and the news spread like wildfire. As I knew it would, about me getting sick, about me being the only girl living off campus.
About me being pregnant.
They all know now and they are all very scandalized. Again, as I knew they would be.
I knew that me being pregnant at eighteen would be a much bigger scandal than what happened with Salem. And it is. At least, I’m happy that some of the heat has been taken away from her. Because for a while there, they were all watching her.
They still do but now they watch me as well.
Our group has become the most rebellious of all.
We’re the St. Mary’s rebels.
In fact, my guidance counselor, who I always thought was my friend of sorts, requested that they switch me to a different counselor now that I’m pregnant.
I’m not going to lie. That did hurt, but it’s okay.
It’s not anything that I didn’t expect.
So I’ll live. But from the looks of it, he won’t.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I tell him. “Can —”
He looks over my shoulders. “Then what the fuck are they looking at?”
I know what he’s talking about.
Like me and my girls, there were others watching him as well. They’re still watching him and now me.
On his first day here, the whole school watched him pick me up after school. They stood outside the cinder block buildings, gathered in the courtyard and watched me walk up to him. Over the past week, a lot of people have lost interest but a lot of them haven’t.