Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Dallas goes on, “What the hell did she say?”
“You don’t want to know,” Army replies.
Jerome is nowhere in sight. Macon holds me, and when his arms tighten, so do mine. Someone knocks into me again, but I don’t get hurt. Macon’s got me.
The space inside the car is getting tight.
I can’t breathe.
It’s hot.
I never want to leave.
“Clay, you need to shave!” someone shouts.
“I shaved!”
“Get your foot out of my face.”
Voices, grunts, an insult about someone’s breath …
His neck is warm. I can feel the creases in the skin of his neck on my mouth. I shift, trying to press my stomach to his, but I rub against him. I stop breathing, he holds me.
“Are we done?” someone asks.
No. I close my eyes.
“Someone shout! Tell them we’re done!”
“Done!” I hear Army and Dallas shout.
“Done!” comes someone else.
“Oh my God, hurry,” Dallas bites out. “I can’t breathe.”
I inhale him, I …
The air horn goes off, and I squeeze my eyes shut tighter …
before I finally open them.
Cheering fills the air, car doors flying open and everyone starting to fall out. There’s laughter outside, but as the car empties, I pull back, lingering, though I can’t meet his eyes.
I don’t know what’s going on here. What does he want? He’s confusing. I hate that.
But my attention keeps drifting to him.
“We fucking lost,” Trace gripes.
“Did those old bags win again?”
“Be nice,” Liv says. “Like we were going to win with you four taking up space in here.”
“God, it’s hot,” Clay complains.
Everyone climbs out, and hesitantly, I follow. I join everyone else outside, Army pulling me to his side. The Hurricane Ladies Book Club, pealing with laughter and having a hell of a time, collect their trophy and gift basket.
“Beer tent,” Trace calls out.
Army follows, pulling me.
But I dig in my heels. “You go,” I tell him.
He opens his mouth to argue, but I assure him, “It’s okay. I have to get my brother and sister anyway. They’re at the bounce houses with friends. My mom is away for the weekend.” I pop up and kiss him on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I turn to leave, but he pulls me back. “Hey.” He pauses, looking into my eyes and knowing something is wrong. “Let me give you a ride.”
“It’s a short walk. We’re good.” I keep my tone light, smiling for him. “Go. Have fun.”
He looks at me like he has more to say, but I turn and leave before he can.
Guilt nips at me, but I wouldn’t even know what to say if I wanted to explain.
I wasn’t lying. My brother and sister are at the bounce houses, and I do need to watch them tonight, but I could’ve taken them in Trace’s truck to the Bay. They like it there.
I just …
I need to be alone.
I walk through the crowd, but then someone pops up in front of me, blocking my way. “I have a key to the truck. Let me take you home instead.”
I raise my eyes, see Dallas standing there. He cocks his head, but the look in his eyes isn’t playful.
“It’s no trouble,” he tells me, holding up the keys.
I look back to see if Army is still there, but he’s gone.
“I thought we were becoming friends,” Dallas teases.
I study him. “And what does that word mean to you?”
He chuckles, and I take my leave as quickly as possible.
“See you tomorrow,” I tell him.
I’m not sure Dallas does much of anything out of the goodness of his heart. And while I’m glad he’s talking to me—and doing it pleasantly—I know he always has a motive, or he expects to be paid for going out of his way.
He’s not complicated in the way Macon is. With Dallas, once you know what he doesn’t want you to know, I’m guessing a lot about him makes sense.
But also, unlike Macon, Dallas will pull you under to save himself. He may have good moments, but I’m not sure he’s good.
I slip in between a game booth and the visitor’s center, heading toward the bounce houses, but as soon as I’m out of site of the Bug Jam, hands shove me in the back, sending me flying to the ground.
What the hell? I gasp, catching myself with my hands, and hurry to flip over, looking up at my attacker.
Milo stands there, then squats down. “You okay?”
Three girls flank him, all four of them looking down at me.
Oh shit.
18
Krisjen
I stare up at Milo, Cate Laurel, Emaline Truax, and Antoinette Viega—the seniors from Marymount—standing behind him. My fingers dig into the dirt behind me. “You want to do this here?”
His grin is in his eyes, mouth set in a straight line. “I’ll be quick.”
He grabs me by the front of my hoodie and hauls me off the ground, twists me around, and grips my ponytail at the scalp. I grunt at the burn.