Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
He’s done therapy on and off, but now, I sense more is wrong, and I’m never wrong when it comes to him. And Ava is back.
“What do you remember from that night? Tell me again.”
He shoves a hand through his hair. “Not much.”
I’ve caught his little looks at her. I mean, we’ve all checked her out. It’s hard not to notice her. She’s devastatingly beautiful, although I don’t think she knows it. There’s no fake there. No expensive perfumes. No makeup except for those lips. Maybe it’s the way she smiles, just a little curve when she’s amused, her lips pouty and full.
Dane shrugs. “I thought she was pretty, but she wasn’t part of our crowd.” A smirk flashes. “Plus, I avoid the nice girls—just like you. She’s the one girl who never gave you a second glance. I like that about her for sure. Shit, the way she looked at you during class was the best laugh I’ve had in months. She hates your guts—”
“Let’s not talk about it.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What’s up with that she can sit with me shit? Chance’s going to be pissed.”
He is. He turned his back to me in the hall after class and marched off.
“She isn’t with him.”
His eyes flare, and he laughs. “Well, well, well, is a girl finally going to ruin the best bromance at Camden?”
“I don’t have a thing for Ava.”
“Because you’re a loyal sonofabitch.”
“I don’t want to be near Ava, and it has nothing to do with my best friend.”
A sigh of relief comes from him. “Good. She’s trouble. About that night…I woke up the next day at Liam’s. I drank my ass off, but I would never…” He exhales. “There’s no way I’d ever hurt a girl.”
It’s the same story he’s had since day one.
He looks down. “You gonna give me a ride home after practice?”
His matching Mercedes is in the shop from a fender bender last week, driving too fast around a curve and hitting a guardrail, scratching the side. Liam was with him, and part of me wonders if he was high even then.
“You gonna go see Coach and tell him you’re sorry you missed today?”
He looks at me over his shoulder, resignation on his face. “Yes. Happy? Right now I need to clean up and get to World History.” He looks down at his watch. “I’m late already.”
He disappears into the locker room, and I jog over to his backpack, unzipping it and riffling through the contents. There are no drugs, although I’m sure he knows how to hide them.
The question is, is he keeping other secrets from me too?
7
I’m giddy when the text comes in from Trask that there’s a place for Tyler at the elementary campus and he’s arranged for me to meet with the headmaster there this afternoon. Apparently one of their scholarship students transferred at the last minute when his parents moved. Do I believe it or did Trask buy my threats? I don’t know, and shit, I don’t care how it happened, but it did! As I walk down the hall, several students give me wary looks, and I just smile. Yes, yes, yes! My baby brother will be one block away from me during the day, and I can maybe even jog over there during lunch and—
No, I can’t just walk into the school and watch him. They have rules. He’ll be okay, he will, and he’ll be getting the best services in the state. I giggle. I can even go to his parent-teacher meetings and soccer games.
I let out a deep breath as I step outside the entrance of Camden.
DAY ONE IS DONE!
LIFE DOES NOT SUCK!
All those good feelings deflate when I see Louise is sitting cock-eyed in the parking lot. Most of the cars have left since I stayed in the library for an hour studying until the crowds had dispersed. Dammit.
I walk up to the Jeep, and the left back tire is decidedly flat. I lean down and inspect it.
Well crap.
I eyeball the spare on the back and let out a sigh as I whip off my blazer and toss it inside along with my backpack.
Five minutes later, I’ve found the jack and have placed it in the right spot on the axle—according to the dusty manual from my glove box I briefly perused.
An idea hits, the memory of that letter left in my locker. I tug it out of my backpack and reread it again.
If you need anything, I want to be there for you. Ha! From a Shark. Let me tell you about a bridge I have for sale. Brooklyn Bridge? It will only cost you a little. Right, right.
I have to admit, it makes me curious. Oh, trust me, I don’t buy for a second that a Shark might actually be my secret admirer—utter bullshit—but color me intrigued.