Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Intense?” she offers with a small smile. “Inappropriate? Both?”
Heat crawls up my cheeks. “I don’t really know. He’s just different.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely different …” She pauses like she’s choosing her words. “And complicated. Far more than people realize, but if you like him, don’t let that scare you away. He’s one of the good ones, even if he tries really hard to convince everyone he isn’t.”
“Oh no, it’s not like that,” I correct her, wanting to make certain she knows nothing is going on between us.
“Hey, that’s fine. I get it. I just wanted you to know, on the off chance you were, that not all the rumors are true. Lee’s a real good guy. He’s just rough around the edges.” The way she talks about him, like she feels the need to defend him. A light goes off in my head, and after his comments last night, I have to wonder how long he’s been pretending to be something he’s not. How long has he been wearing a mask and faking it until he can’t anymore?
I bet Lee has a pile of secrets he’s keeping.
“Hey, look, freak show’s back for summer school.”
The comment slides through the study space like a poison-filled mist. I don’t give it any acknowledgment. I know that voice, know who it belongs to without turning around.
Marcus Chen and his cronies—the same guys who were there that night, who watched it all happen, who watched me break apart like entertainment. Their taunting and hateful words are meant to elicit a reaction.
I’m sure I look weak in the eyes of my peers since I don’t bother to defend myself, but there’s no reason. Anyone who believes their lies isn’t someone I would ever associate with anyway.
My hands start to shake, and I clench them into fists, feeling the nitrile stretch across my knuckles. Focus on the smooth texture. Count the bookshelves.
“Guess they let anyone attend these days, huh?” another voice adds, just loud enough to reach my ears. “Even the ones who should be locked up.”
Bel’s entire body stiffens, her usual gentle expression hardening into something fierce.
“Don’t,” I plead, but she’s already half turned in her chair.
“I thought the library was for studying,” Marcus taunts, his voice dripping with fake concern. “Shouldn’t she be in a padded room? What if she loses it again?”
I hate that my only option is to leave, but I won’t subject myself to this crap. Sinking deeper into the confines of my mind, I push out of my chair and allow my body to move on autopilot. Each item needs to go into my bag in the right order—laptop, textbook, notebooks, pencil case. If I focus on doing it perfectly, I won’t hear them.
Won’t feel the weight of their eyes on me. Won’t remember how it felt when—
“That’s enough.” Bel’s voice cuts through the whispers, sharp as broken glass.
I look away from my backpack and find her standing, all five-foot-four of her blazing with quiet fury. Marcus meets her gaze for half a second before he falters. Pussy. Everyone knows crossing Bel means crossing Drew Marshall, and nobody wants to be on the wrong side of the most influential graduate of Oakmount.
Even with Drew having graduated, his shadow still looms over campus politics.
“Guess I wasn’t aware you befriended psychopaths?” Marcus sneers at Bel, drawing on false bravado.
“Not only do I befriend them, but I date them, too.” She smiles, tipping her head toward Drew who wanders closer to our little tableau. Drew gives Marcus a small wave and a terrifying smile. How does a quiet bookworm end up with the psychopath football player? Something tells me there’s a story there.
Marcus mutters something under his breath and walks off with his friends in tow. The pressure on my chest lifts as soon as he’s gone. I can finally breathe again. It doesn’t change anything. The damage is already done. The perfect order of my morning is shattered, and no amount of reorganizing will fix it.
“I’m sorry… I know it’s not my place to apologize for their shitty attitudes, but I feel the need to,” Bel says softly.
“It’s okay. I’m used to it, and I was getting ready to leave, anyway.”
Bel watches me with apprehension. “Don’t leave. Don’t let him win. You have as much of a right to be here as he does.”
“It doesn’t matter if I have a right to be here. I don’t belong.” My voice cracks, and the honesty in my words is soul-piercing.
“Yes, you do,” she counters, and there’s no point in arguing with her.
“Thank you for your kindness, Bel, but I know I don’t, and I’m okay with that. I’ve accepted it. I have another class soon anyway.”
Bel frowns. I know she’s trying to save me and make me feel better, but nothing can save me from reality.
“Well, I guess we’ll have to meet up somewhere else, then. Do you want to get a coffee sometime?”