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)
“Maybe I should just go home,” I whisper, frozen in the backseat. “I can’t do this. I just can’t.”
“No. Absolutely not. Unacceptable.” Before I know it, Maya is out of the car, slamming the door and marching toward Tiana with her fists clenched at her sides.
“Oh, shit,” Wren whispers. It’s worry that gets me out of the car at last, but I don’t have the courage to take a step toward where Maya stands in front of Tiana with her arms folded.
“What’s your problem?” Tiana asks with a bright, fake smile.
“You are,” Maya barks. “And you’re pathetic. Unless you want another ass-kicking like the one I already gave you, you’re gonna move on. Walk away. Now.”
Tiana stares at her until it’s obvious Maya is not going to back down. I can only stand back and watch—but I don’t look away when Tiana’s gaze swings toward me. I stare her down, too, if only from a distance. But that’s still a lot better than shrinking back the way I usually would.
“Grow up, Tiana,” Wren adds. “Doing stuff like this is the only way you feel relevant. It’s pathetic. Maybe you should spend your time developing a personality instead.”
Her eyes go narrow, and her jaw tightens, but all she does is toss her head before turning around and stomping off. There’s soft laughter from a group of kids sitting on the lawn, which only makes her walk faster. I’m not going to lie to myself. This is not the last I’ll see of her. I can only hope she thinks twice before starting any more trouble.
“Come on.” Maya returns to the car to get her bag, gritting out her words. Her face is flushed, her eyes bright. “I’m not a violent person, but I swear that girl is asking for it.”
Note to self: don’t get on Maya’s bad side.
“Ignore them,” Wren whispers, walking on my right while Maya walks on my left. Some of the lowest of the low insist on chuckling and whistling as we cut across the quad. It’s not bad enough I’ve been humiliated. They need to rub my nose in it. A couple of girls giggle, but a quick glare from Wren shuts them up, and for the most part, the walk to class is bearable.
It’s when I have to separate from them to actually go into the lecture hall that my heart starts pounding against my ribs so hard, I’m afraid I’ll crack a bone. Carter’s in this class. Bile churns in my stomach, and I regret being too nervous to eat breakfast, but then I’d have only thrown it up thanks to my nerves.
“It’ll be okay,” I whisper, pulling my sleeves over my fists, pretending not to hear soft laughter as a group of thick-neck jocks passes by. Nothing better to do.
I’ll be okay. I need to remind myself of that. I cannot give these people power. They don’t deserve it.
I feel him as soon as I open the door. His presence in the air. Instead of looking around for him, I keep my eyes focused straight ahead and take an empty aisle seat a few rows down from the back. That way, I can duck out as soon as class is over and be out of the room in no time. Fewer people can see me when I’m back here, too.
Unfortunately, there are still plenty of people who can, including a pair of jerks who sit down behind me and loudly make themselves comfortable.
“Check it out,” one of them mutters to the other, nudging the back of my chair with his foot. Like I can’t hear them. “I’ve never sat this close to a model before.”
“Just think. One day, when her pictures are all over the internet, we can say we knew her when she was just a freak who wore sweaters all the time.”
Ignore it. They can’t keep this up all throughout class. Once the professor stands up at the front of the hall, most of the noise and chatter quiets down.
Except for the chatter going on behind me.
“Not gonna lie. I jerked off to those pictures of you.” He kicks the back of my chair again, whoever he is. “Hello. I’m talking to you. You should be flattered.”
Right. I’m super flattered to know somebody jerked off to naked pictures of me that were taken and sent out without my consent. Every girl’s dream.
“Maybe she’s busy thinking about giving you a live show,” his friend jokes. “She’s just too shy to admit it.”
Hatred. So much hatred. Enough to make my skin crawl and a cold sweat to coat the back of my neck. It’s not even so much what they’re saying that has me feeling this filthy and disgusting. I can deal with that. I’ve dealt with much worse.
It’s knowing Carter’s here. He could be watching. I barely turn my head, scanning the room from the corner of my eye. Where is he? Is he paying attention? Who am I kidding—I’m sure he is.