Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Ugh,” I groan as I push his arm off my shoulder. “Do you forget that I was there for your whole ‘shitting your pants’ phase?”
At that, Jesse goes quiet while Nate knocks his shoulder and laughs. I ignore them and race down the stairs before them, feeling proud of my small victory.
I turn into the dining room which joins from the kitchen and smile at Trish. “Is there anything I can help you with?” I question.
“No, darling. You just find a seat and dig in.”
I do just that and grab myself a plate before reaching for the serving spoon with the intention of dishing up the smallest serving.
As I lean across the table, a large hand comes down over mine and slides the spoon out of my fingers. “Here,” Nate says, sending a bolt of electricity shooting up my arm. “Let me help you with that.”
He instantly scoops deep into the food and places a large helping on my plate. “That’ll do,” I tell him with a grunt as he goes for a second spoonful.
“Don’t be silly,” he says. “I saw you at lunch today. You hardly ate anything. You must be starving.”
“I ate plenty,” I tell him as I glance up to see Trish watching Nate with nothing but love as she takes in her son acting like a gentleman, though I know better. “It must have been when you and Jesse were busy making the new kid feel welcomed,” I say.
He gives me a hard stare, knowing I’m referring to how they made some poor kid feel like absolute shit when they disregarded him and laughed when he asked to sit with them. Though to be fair, Nate didn’t say a word through the whole thing, but he’s their leader. He could have told them to knock it off and they would have stopped in the blink of an eye. That makes him just as guilty.
“There’s plenty to go around,” Nate says before the spoon comes down on my plate again, doubling the huge pile. He finally releases the spoon before grabbing the sugariest soda possible and filling my cup as high as it can go.
Jesse drops down beside me with a smirk while Cade appears from who the hell knows where and gives me a warm smile. “Welcome, Tora,” he says as Nate walks around the other side of the table and drops down into the spot directly opposite me. “I understand you’ll be staying with us a while.”
“Apparently, so,” I tell him. “I mean, if that’s ok with you.”
“Of course, it is,” he tells me before wrestling the serving spoon out of Jesse’s hand. “How have you been?”
“Good. And yourself?” I say, trying to hold back the vomit that threatens to rise in my throat from the amount of food before me.
“I’m starving,” he says with a grin as he scoops his fork off the table and digs in deep.
I look up and scowl at the grin Nate gives me as he proudly dishes up his own dinner. He puts about half on his plate as what he gave me, making me want to launch myself across the table and strangle the dickhead. He picks up his own fork and smirks up at me. “Dig in, Tori,” he says with laughter in his eyes.
I tear my eyes away from him and look down at the plate. Just seeing all that food makes me feel sick. I’ll never get through all of that and I worry that I’ll offend Trish if I don’t eat.
Reluctantly, I pick up my fork and take the first bite. I mean, it’s good. It’s probably the yummiest thing I’ve eaten all month, but I just can’t. I swallow it down and can’t help but wonder how much that one bite is going to add to my hips and stomach.
I dig my fork in again and slowly raise it to my mouth.
It’s just me and the fork that exists at this moment. Not the awkward conversation around me. Not the sound of forks scratching against expensive china. Not the sound of Jesse belching. Just me and the fork.
I can do it.
It’s just food. It will be fine. I’ll swallow it, and then I’ll go for a run in the morning. Simple fix.
I pop the bite into my mouth and my gag reflexes instantly say hello. I stop chewing and cringe while I hold the first bite down.
I can do this. I’m going to make this plate my bitch. I’m going to annihilate it, and I’m going to be proud of it.
Swallow.
Another bite.
Chew.
After the fifth bite, I’ve eaten more in one sitting that I have over the past month and I find myself pushing the food around my plate, staring at it as though I’ve let myself down, though all I can think about is how I want to throw it all up.