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)
That question is still on my mind by the time I head for the cafeteria. It only hits me once I’m through the glass doors that the girls didn’t say whether it would only be the three of us or not. Are their boyfriends going to be hanging out with us?
In other words, will Carter be there, since he’s glued to their sides?
It’s too late to back out now. The girls are sitting at the usual table—there must be some invisible reserve sign on it that keeps other people from sitting there—and they must have been looking out for me, because now they’re both smiling and waving me over. This is the kind of thing normal people do all the time. They have lunch with friends and talk about what happened over the weekend. As much as I wish most of the time that the rest of the world would leave me alone, I can’t pretend there isn’t a part of me that wants to live the way other people do. I can’t afford to pass up opportunities like this, where people seek me out and ask me to be their friend.
And I can’t, for any reason, allow Carter to dictate what I do. It would be one thing to turn the girls down because I’m overwhelmed or feeling shy. But to consider turning on my heel and bolting because there’s a chance I might see him? I can’t give him that power.
He already has too much as it is.
“So we want all the details.” Wren bounces up and down in her seat as I plop down across from her. “Did you take pictures? How did you look?”
“I didn’t really think to take any pictures—but we got a million of them from the photographer. As soon as we get the proofs back, I’ll show them to you.”
“Were there any tragic drunken speeches? That’s one of my favorite parts,” Maya teases, making Wren laugh.
“Actually, I left before everyone got too drunk.” And I really, truly wish the memory didn’t make me feel so warm all of a sudden. He was more human on Saturday night. He acted like a regular, almost decent person.
Everything changed the night before that, too. When we had sex. And then it was nice again on Sunday. It’s like being on a roller coaster all the time. Stupid me, not carrying my motion sickness pills around.
Thinking about him means I can’t pay full attention to the girls as they talk about what they did this weekend. Not that I really need to pay close attention since I know whatever it was, it revolved around their guys. It’s not that I’m jealous or anything like that. It’s just that I can’t relate. Even though they both go out of their way to make me feel included, there are times like this when I can’t share much of myself. I really wish that wasn’t so. All I can do is sit back and listen to their stories and laugh when it seems like that’s what I should do.
“There’s the most beautiful girl I know.” I’m just as surprised as Wren when Briggs comes up out of nowhere and wraps his arms around her from behind.
Tucker does the same thing with Maya, nuzzling her neck while she squeals and giggles. “Too hungry to wait for us?” he asks before dropping into a chair next to hers.
How naïve can I be, thinking it would just be the three of us? But my heart doesn’t really drop until Carter sits practically at the other end of the table from where I am. Not that I would ever complain that he’s keeping his distance.
Oh, who am I kidding? I was actually starting to think he wasn’t so bad for roughly three seconds there—feeling strangely touched that he would go out of his way to be kind. Just because he’s acting the way he is now doesn’t erase the feelings that were starting to bloom in me, no matter how much I pretend otherwise.
I can hardly bring myself to glance his way. What has to happen to a person to inspire the kind of chaos that boils in him all the time? Why am I even asking myself that question? He is an enigma, and I don’t have the time or the energy to solve him.
“Elliana.” One of the twins—I still can’t tell the difference between Preston and Easton—grins my way as he unwraps a sandwich. “It was a shame you didn’t come swimming with us yesterday.”
I’m looking at him, but I can see Carter from the corner of my eye. That means I notice when Carter’s spine stiffens, and he sits up straighter, scowling down at his lunch like it insulted him. I wonder what his friends would think of him if I told them what he did to me after they left.