Total pages in book: 174
Estimated words: 173355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 693(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 693(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Maybe because he has such a dark, threatening aura about him. And because my life is basically a mess right now.
And Callie knows it too, what Salem was going to say, because she asks, “Is that why you never showed us any photos even when you admitted you were lying about his age? Because he’s so…”
Poe glares at her too. “Don’t.”
Callie raises her hands in surrender and then mimes zipping up her lips. Which Poe finds satisfactory before turning her attention to me. “You. Do you have something to add as well?”
I look at both Salem and Callie before shaking my head and saying, “Not really.”
“Good. Because I don’t want to hear it.” She pins all of us with her stern gray-blue bespectacled gaze. “Yes, he’s not old as we all knew already. And he’s fucking… good looking, okay? There, I said it. He’s good looking.”
“He’s not just good looking, he’s fucking glorious,” Salem says.
“He’s like… wow,” Callie goes then. “And maybe I’m exaggerating things because I’m pregnant and hormonal. But I don’t think I am. I think everyone here thinks that.”
Poe bangs her fist on the table again. “I knew it. I knew you’d say that. I knew that as soon as you took a look at his glorious face” – she eyes Salem – “you’d forget what he did to me. And —”
Callie reaches out for her fist then. “Hey, of course not. We’ll never forget what he did to you. He’s our sworn enemy. Till the end of time.”
Salem chimes in, “Yes, exactly. Glorious or not, he’s the man who sent you here. And even though if you hadn’t come here, we never would’ve met and that would’ve made me sad, I still hate him. We’ll always hate him for that.”
This gives Poe a little relief.
“And we know you’re freaking out at seeing him like this,” I decide to reason a little with her. “But didn’t you hear what Principal Carlisle said? He’s not going to be the principal until next term. And we’re all graduating in a few weeks. So maybe it’s not as bad as we’re all thinking.”
Poe’s face becomes even more grave at my observation and I don’t understand how.
None of us do.
But when Callie goes to ask her about it, Poe snaps her hand back and stands up abruptly.
And leaves.
She strides out of the cafeteria that’s still buzzing with excitement and loud chatter. In fact it feels even more crowded now than it was before Principal Carlisle arrived with her news.
And in the midst of all that chatter and enthusiasm, I see him.
I finally see the man I’ve been looking for.
The man I’m in love with.
He’s standing at the threshold of the cafeteria, tall and so visible, so mine.
And everything comes in swinging, the worry, the fear, the feeling of impending doom and I can’t sit here any longer. I have to go to him. But I’m worried about Poe as well and Callie’s here and…
“Hey, me and Callie are gonna go look for Poe, okay?” Salem says, coming to my rescue as she has done so many times in the past. “Can you grab me a muffin, Wyn? Before the bell.”
I shoot her a look full of gratitude as I nod. “Yeah.”
She smiles. “Thanks.”
Then she helps Callie up from her chair and they’re off, looking for Poe. And when they’re out of sight, I head in his direction. I have very little time before the bell and I need to talk to him.
I need to make sure that everything’s okay, and if not, then how I can help.
I just hope that me going to him like this won’t make things worse.
When he sees me approaching him, which he basically did the moment I stood up because his eyes were on me, his gaze becomes liquid.
It becomes shiny and full of warmth and… love.
God, he loves me.
He loves me.
I know he hasn’t said it yet, not in those exact words, but I can see it in his eyes.
It makes me happy. And it makes me angry.
It makes me want to kiss him and punch him and hug him and rage at him.
For doing what he did.
For putting me through everything.
For loving me the way he does.
When I reach him, I ask the question I asked him three weeks ago. “Is everything…”
He thrusts his hands down into his pockets, dipping his chin and saying, “Everything is fine.”
“Is she…” I look around, completely in tune with our surroundings, with people and if they’re throwing us looks; no one is so far, thankfully. “Is she going to say something? Because if she is, I’m ready. I’ll tell them that —”
“You don’t need to worry about her,” he says calmly with a slight smile. “Or anyone. I’ve taken care of it. She’s not going to bother you or say anything. You just focus on your finals, all right?”