Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Since that is about as nice as I can be, I leave it there. Otherwise, I might have to tell them about her ugly clothes and the glasses that make her eyes bug out.
Tucker rubs his jaw, frowning. “From the way you describe your stepmom, she’s basically the opposite.”
My stepmom. “Don’t use disgusting language like that in front of me,” I warn. Everybody laughs, but I’m not joking. “She’s nothing but a gold digger.”
“I’m sure her daughter isn’t,” Wren reminds me. “From the way you make it sound, she just needs friends. I remember how that felt.”
“Same here,” Maya agrees.
“Hey, if you can get through to her, be my guest. You’ll know her by the cable knit sweater she’s wearing on an eighty-degree day and… what do they call them? Coke-bottle glasses?” Making circles with my forefingers and thumbs, I hold them over my eyes. “They’re like magnifying lenses.”
“Stop,” Preston murmurs with a smirk. “You’re getting me too horny.”
“A gentle breeze would get you horny.” He doesn’t bother arguing my point. “But like I said, if you can help out, I’d appreciate it. Dad is dead set on us being some TV sitcom family.”
“The poor girl just needs a little time to get out of her shell.” Wren looks up at the clock hanging over the double doors and grimaces. “Shit, I’m running late. I’ve gotta go.”
“Don’t forget,” Maya says with a snicker as she stands. “You’re a guy. There are things about girls a guy will never understand.”
I don’t even bother telling her she’s wrong. I’ve already used up all my patience when it comes to Elliana this morning. “If you can crack the code, be my guest. One less thing for me to think about.” Then I haul ass outside and head straight for the sciences building, where my Psych class is held. At least while I’m here, I don’t have to walk on eggshells around Princess Freak.
The only reason I didn’t go into deeper detail about her and how rude and ignorant she is was knowing I’d only get my balls busted by the guys. Considering they’re still a little tender from all the shit Dad gave me earlier, I’m not in the mood.
The lecture hall is dark and cool and already filling up by the time I arrive with a few minutes to spare. I snag a seat toward the back of the room and glance around to see how many people I recognize. After jerking my chin to acknowledge a few of them, I pull out my MacBook and set it up on the counter running the length of the row.
A high-pitched giggle catches my attention—I look that way out of reflex, more than actually caring who made the sound or why. That’s how it is. You hear an unexpected noise, and you look around to see what’s happening.
What do I see? I see who the girl giggled at.
A certain bug-eyed, limp-haired, sweater-wearing freak who takes an empty seat at the opposite end of my row without looking up from her shoes.
Fuck me. Is there anywhere on campus I’ll be able to go and avoid her?
Now more than a few people have noticed not only her bizarre fashion sense but the way she holds herself, with her hair hanging around her face. If she’s going to always stare at her feet, she needs to get a pair of glasses that actually fit, since they keep sliding down until she pushes them back up the bridge of her nose.
What did I ever do to deserve this? And what happens once word gets around that she’s part of my family? I don’t want to be associated with her.
Right now, it looks like I don’t have much say in anything.
Like I needed another reason to hate her guts.
FOUR
Elliana
It’s almost over. All I have to do is sit through the drive home with Carter, and then I can hide in my room and decompress.
That’s the only thought keeping me going as I cross campus, doing everything I can to avoid the gazes of strangers who seem to think they know me. Carter called me rude? Somebody needs to talk to these people about how they have no problem openly staring at someone, snickering—the whole nine yards. That is rude. Not to mention totally unnecessary. What have I ever done to them?
What have I ever done to him? The child. The spoiled, self-centered infant. He can’t stand someone not immediately bowing down and kissing his feet just because he decided they were worthy of a conversation, so he has to lash out and act like a prick. The only reason he was nice to me this morning was to make his dad happy, obviously.
When I didn’t play along, it only irked him worse than ever. Poor baby. I hope his friends soothe his bruised ego.