Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
I don’t have it in me to get through to this kid—and frankly, I don’t care enough, either. “You realize I’m confiscating these, right? Get back to class, and don’t ever let me hear about you having shit you are not supposed to have. Because if anything like this is found on another student, I’m coming to you first. And there are worse things than getting kicked out of Corium. Don’t make it so you have to find out firsthand.”
He blows out a heavy sigh and comes dangerously close to testing the limits of my patience but is smart enough to spin on his heel and stroll out of the office. This fucking kid. All these fucking kids. Not that I would be that much better, but good luck being successful in our world—and not ending up in federal prison—if you aren’t smart enough to wait until after class to sell pills to your friends. Dipshit.
Pills which I quickly stash in my desk drawer. The kid did me a favor by being so stupid. A couple of five-milligram tablets of Percocet might be just what the doctor ordered, come to think of it. And it might help me get through the rest of the day.
Though, now that my email is taken care of and my to-do list is pretty much cleared off, I’m of half a mind to get the hell out of here for the rest of the day. I can make up an excuse, not that I should have to. Who’s going to question me?
I have my hand on the laptop lid, prepared to close it and announce I can be reached in my apartment if anything comes up.
As if on cue, there’s another knock on the door. The entire school is conspiring to kill me today. I’m sure of it. “What is it this time?”
I look up as the door opens, prepared to get rid of whoever it is as quickly as possible.
The sight of a familiar pair of eyes knocks the breath out of my lungs and sends me slamming back in my chair. She’s older, but then so am I. She still has that quality of pure, natural beauty. Beauty I tried so hard to destroy.
She’s standing in front of me after all this time.
And, my god, does she look like our daughter. How did I not see it from the very beginning?
“Charlotte.”
22
DELILAH
“Thank you for taking the time to see me.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” Dr. Lauren wears a funny look when she pushes her chair away from me, rolling backward so she can toss her gloves in the trash after examining the cut on my head. “This is my job, don’t forget. And I told you to come in and follow up with me, remember?”
“I remember. But I’m fine. It seems like you’re going out of your way.”
“I’m not.” She hits me with an appraising look as she stands. “You need to get used to people giving a damn about you, girl.”
That only makes me laugh. I know I shouldn’t. I know she means it. But there comes a time when a person has to get real. “You’re one of the few who ever have.”
“That was the past. This is now. You have to give yourself a chance to be cared for.”
Right. I thought Lucas cared about me, and look where I ended up. Alone. Hated. Maybe Aspen wants to be friends—I still can’t imagine why—but her husband won’t let her. He acted like I was a leper or something when he saw us together in the medical wing. Freaking out because, oh no, his precious Aspen was spending time with a girl who wouldn’t be alive much longer.
Let’s not help the girl with a death sentence hanging over her head or anything. Let’s avoid her, instead. Wouldn’t want to get any blood splattered on us.
“Caring for me is too dangerous,” I remind her. “It’s probably not safe for you, either. You’re better off pretending I don’t exist, like everybody else does.”
“It won’t always be like this. I’m sure…” What else is there to say? It’s a waste of breath to tell me everything will be okay. I know it won’t unless the people with a thing against me all change their minds for some reason. I can’t think of what that reason might be. I doubt such a reason exists, anyway. Once people get ideas in their heads, they don’t easily let go of them.
“Thanks for checking up on me.” I hop down from the examination table. “I’d better get to class.”
“How are classes going, by the way? Have you been able to concentrate on your work?”
Her penetrating stare tells me she already knows the answer. It isn’t easy lying to her when she’s so friendly and caring. So I don’t bother. “No. Not at all. But it’s not like I actually want to be here. I learn more from reading books in the library.”