Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“I honestly didn’t think it would turn out like it did.” You’re not making sense, Easton. Make this make sense to her. “It was awful.”
She exhales slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. “And you were expecting it to be magical and amazing?”
The sarcasm stings—but I deserve it. “I don’t know.”
She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “Figures.”
That stings more than the sarcasm. I try to come up with a response, but my mind goes blank, leaving me to watch in silence as she turns…
And walks away.
* * *
—
The first half of my day has been complete crap, my negative thoughts clinging to me like the sweat on my skin. Gym class was hell. Our teacher had me running drills because I wasn’t paying attention, so my legs feel like lead, and my lungs are burning.
By the time I make it to the lunchroom, I’m starving, exhausted, and in a mood so bad I’m surprised people don’t part the hallway to avoid me.
The cafeteria is loud, a chaotic mess of voices and clattering trays. Normally, I don’t mind it. But today it grates on my nerves, giving me a fucking headache.
The guys are already laughing at something Deshaun said, Gabe is slouched in his usual seat scarfing down a sandwich, and Marcus is predictably glued to Macy’s side, probably sharing food.
Their relationship might make me want to gag—but at least he saved me a seat.
I plop down.
“Dude,” Gabe says, glancing at me as I sit down. “Bro, what happened to you?”
“Prom stuff,” I say vaguely, shrugging it off to avoid questions about the reasons for my scowl.
“Uh-huh.” Deshaun leans over to get a closer look. “And I’m guessing Harper was part of that prom stuff? The two of you both seem in weird moods today.”
I look over my shoulder, and sure enough, she’s materialized out of nowhere.
Wordlessly, Harper seats herself at the opposite end of the table; I watch her organize her lunch. Container of fruit, sandwich, cookies—and a bite-sized candy bar. Neat. Orderly. In a pink container, of course.
“I’m officially done decorating.” She glowers in my direction.
Ouch. The words are meant for me, but I don’t react, bending my head to fixate on my lunch until Gabe reaches for my hair, plucking at the gel, which I only applied for Maddie.
I slap his hand away, agitated. “Stop touching me.”
He grins, but Macy isn’t laughing. She frowns, chewing on an apple as her gaze bounces between me and Harper like she’s watching a tennis match.
“You two good?” she asks, swallowing. “Loop me in.”
Harper stabs her food with unnecessary force. “Nothing. I’m great.”
I scoff, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah. Totally—never been better.”
“Uhhh…” Marcus finally looks up from his phone, brows raised. “What’s up with you guys?”
“Nothing,” I say at the same time Harper mutters, “Ask him.”
Great. Perfect. Just what I fucking needed—Harper making a thing out of this Maddie Miller situation in front of everyone because her feelings are hurt and we haven’t had time to hash it out in private.
God, I am a dumbass.
My food tastes like cardboard as I take my first few bites, tuning out my friends as they talk about nothing. The gym. Working out. Ordering our caps and gown. Shit like that.
“You coming with us?” Deshaun interrupts my thoughts.
I steal another glance down to the end of the table. Harper hasn’t said much at all since she sat down, quietly absorbed in eating her lunch.
“I’m down.” I have no idea what he’s referring to but agree to go, stuffing half a sandwich into my mouth.
Gabe grins. “Sweet.”
“We’ll get a good warmup in, some weight training, and maybe hit the treadmills at the end. Gotta stay fast for games.” Parker stretches, then flexes his biceps.
Then.
Then the worst possible thing happens.
From the corner of my eye I spot Maddie Miller walking toward our table, long legs striding assertively. Blond braids swinging. Cell phone clutched in her hand.
Determined look on her face.
She’s on a mission, and she’s heading toward me.
My stomach drops into my ass.
The cafeteria noise dims, my focus zeroing in on her like a heat-seeking missile, and I suddenly feel trapped.
Harper notices—of course she does—and her posture stiffens, her forkful of pineapple stilling midair. I can feel the shift in her energy before Maddie stops right beside me at the table, a little too close, and smiles—a slow, calculated smile that sends my already ruined day plummeting to the pits of hell.
“Hey, Easton.”
I don’t like the way she says my name. Too smooth. Too sweet.
Harper sets her fork down with a dull clink, and I swear I feel the temperature drop.
“Oh my god, you guys! Hey,” she singsongs to the rest of the group. “I didn’t see you there.”
“ ’Sup,” Deshaun replies, stuffing his face with a frosted cupcake.
Maddie shifts her weight, her eyes darting from face to face around the table before locking on mine.