Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“So that’s it? You’re giving me the brush-off?” He leans in, almost pinning me against my locker. Now I wish I hadn’t stuck around to work on my art project after class. We’re alone in the hallway. I’m pretty sure he waited for me.
And it’s freaking me out a little, along with irking me. “Yes, if that’s how you want to look at it,” I tell him with a shrug.
“I can’t accept that.”
“You can’t?” I need to get out of this. There’s cold sweat trickling down the back of my neck and a knot in my stomach that keeps tightening. “Fine. Then how about this?”
It’s ugly, it’s cruel, but it’s the only way I can think to get rid of him after two weeks of being pestered and stalked and questioned. “I’ll tell everybody you raped me at the party.”
“That’s why he hates me now. Because I slept with him, and when he wouldn’t leave me alone after … I didn’t know what to do,” I mumble, staring at my plate. “He wouldn’t let it go, and it’s not like I could admit I needed to lose my virginity because otherwise my dad was going to sell it to some stranger. So I told him… this is so hard to admit, but I told him if he didn’t leave me alone, I would tell everybody he raped me.”
Closing my eyes, I brace myself to absorb her disgust. I can only hope she won’t regret reaching out to me and trying to be my friend after hearing what I did. “I regret it. I really do, but I felt cornered, and I was desperate to make him stop. So he hates me now.” But no more than I hate myself.
“Maya.” Her voice is heavy with sympathy and sadness. “I’m sure if you told him now, he would understand.”
So she thinks. She can afford to think that, since she doesn’t know exactly how complicated things are between us. “Well, that would be up to him. But now you know. I’m ashamed of myself, really.”
“I’m so glad you told me. Do you feel any better now that you did?”
“You don’t hate me?” I ask, holding my breath.
“Of course I don’t! My god!” She even laughs a little in disbelief, shaking her head. “You were desperate! You did the only thing you could think to do to keep your dad from hurting you. How can I hate you for that? But I still think you should explain it to him. It’s not my business, though,” she concludes, holding her hands up.
Her expression softens while I absorb all of this. “I’m here. I want you to feel like you can talk to me, because I know how it is when you’re holding secrets inside. They eat away at you, they rot you, and you don’t deserve that. No matter whether you think you do or not, you don’t. Okay?”
It’s almost bizarre. I feel lighter. Looser. Almost relaxed. I can breathe. There’s no pressure in my chest or in my head. It almost feels the way I usually feel after I’ve cut myself, only I haven’t. I don’t know how to process it.
As it turns out, Wren distracts me from it, anyway. “One thing is for sure: you need to get out of that house. You’re eighteen now.”
“Right, but Dad funds my entire life—which he couldn’t help reminding me.” I let out a bitter laugh. “He’ll cut me off. No school, no home, nothing. And I totally believe he will, too,” I add before she can insist no father would do that to his daughter. She should know better than that, anyway.
“Well, there’s another way. Come here, live here. There is so much room!” she explains when I wince. “And if your dad stops paying tuition… I don’t know, maybe you could talk to Tucker’s dad and work something out.”
“Right.” I smirk. “I’m sure Briggs would be super happy about that.”
“Don’t you know Briggs would do anything to make me happy? And I’m not trying to brag or anything. It’s how it is. If I tell him you need help, he’ll be glad to have you stay here. It’ll be fun.” She claps her hands a little. “Like one long sleepover. Oh, please,” she begs, like I’d be the one doing her a favor.
Could it be that easy? Does it have to be any more complicated? Maybe it’s time for me to start trusting. Maybe I need to start believing life can be better.
“Okay,” I agree, smiling when she claps again. A genuine smile, not the kind I have to consciously put on. “I’ll start getting my things together tonight while you talk to Briggs and make sure he’s cool with it.” I feel like I need to make a big deal out of that, because there’s nothing more awkward than showing up some place unexpected and uninvited.