Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“Ramona,” I groan. But suddenly, she’s whirling, and she’s gone—running off down the hall before Melissa closes the door with a horrible little laugh.
“Now,” she purrs, turning on me. “Where were we?”
“Get. Out.”
My whole body trembles, my hands closing to fists as my jaw grinds tight.
“Oh stop,” she giggles, reaching for the button of her jeans. “Let’s just—”
“Get the fuck out!” I roar, lunging from the bed, forcing myself to stay steady this time through sheer will.
Melissa’s eyes narrow.
“Excuse me? You’re seriously throwing me out?!”
“NOW!” I roar, jabbing a finger at the door, my face a mask of rage.
Melissa steps into me, tumbling against me as she cranes her head up like she’s trying to kiss me. I just hiss, growling as I shove her back, hard. She whirls, rage clouding her face as her eyes narrow.
“Oh, big fucking mistake, asshole!”
“You’re out in three seconds or I’m throwing you out that window,” I snarl.
She gasps, her face going white before her eyes narrow.
“Asshole!”
“Manipulative cunt.”
Her jaw drops before she flips me off, turning and yanking her shirt back on.
“Too busy fucking your sister to see what’s right in front of you, you fucking freak?”
“Three,” I hiss. “Two.”
“Wait until the school knows!” she snaps.
“Do your fucking worst. One.”
I flex my muscles, clenching my hands to fists as I step towards her. Melissa sneers at me, flipping me off again and telling me to go fuck myself before she whirls, yanks the door open, and storms away.
I stagger down the hall, somehow, holding the wall until I get to Ramona’s door. I pound on it—over, and over, and over again, until my fist is bruised and the deafening sound of her silence my only answer. But it’s when I hear the soft sounds of her tears that my heart breaks as the world fades around me.
Later, I’m aware of two people—My dad and Celia, I think—helping me up off the floor outside Ramona’s door and walking me back to my own room. And when I fall, I fall hard. And I keep falling into the darkness until all I know is emptiness of not having her.
18
Jamison
Three weeks go by in a fucking blur. Three. Fucking. Weeks.
We lapse into this fucked up world where we’re constantly ships passing in the night—she’s gone in the morning, and home late after doing homework elsewhere. At school, it’s like she’s figured out some secret fucking passages or something, because that girl is gone from the hallways.
And the times we do run into each other, it’s like talking to a stone wall. I can’t tell if she still thinks I actually slept with Melissa Cruz or it she just wants to stay pissed at me, but whatever it is, it just keeps going on. And on. And on.
Around us, life moves on.
We creep closer to the wedding date. Slowly, the grounds of Weiss Manor begin to transform into this fucking fairyland of white gauze curtains, and floral arrangements, and swans.
…Fucking swans. Seriously.
I work on my car, and it’s actually not purple anymore, but that’s sort of a mixed bag of emotions. I almost want it to stay purple, because the purple was from Ramona.
And then, there’s school. No one says shit to my face, and I’m guessing most people don’t even really believe it, but I hear the rumors swirling around and quieting when I walk into a room. Melissa’s spread the shit about Ramona and I like the fucking plague. And if it’s bad for me, I can only imagine how it is for her. I want to reach out. I want to talk to her. Fuck, I want to hold her, and make all of this right.
But, I can’t.
***
“There he is.”
I grin as I stride forward and throw my arms around my brother. Ethan chuckles, hugging me back and clapping me on the back.
“Hey, man.”
“Hey, Jamison,”
Emily smiles at me as she steps forward, giving me a big hug.
“Hey, Ms. Hayes.”
“For fuck’s sake, man,” Ethan growls.
I chuckle, and Emily rolls her eyes as she grins, turning to punch me playfully in the arm. We’re standing outside the carriage house in the way back end of Weiss Manor’s sprawling property—the same carriage house where Ethan lived when he was still living here. He and Emily opted to stay here for their visit for the wedding, and the Uber from the airport’s just dropped them off.
“Been waiting for that one, haven’t you?”
“For so long,” I laugh, throwing an arm around my former-teacher-slash-probably-future-sister-in-law’s shoulders.
“I’m glad you guys are here.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Ethan laughs. “Well, could have missed coming back to this fucking town, I’ll say that.”
“Hey, it’s not so bad,” Emily grins.
“Aside from the firing you and almost running you out with torches and pitchforks?” My brother growls. Emily giggles, waving her hand.
“Oh, whatever. It’s not like you weren’t going to come home for your own father’s wedding tomorrow.”