Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 73153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
"Hey." I only arched an eyebrow at him, forcing myself to come off as nonchalant and uncaring. "I know that we didn't get to hang out yesterday because you were busy and all," I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly where he was going with this, "but I was wondering if you would like to hang out before classes start this morning? My friends won't mind if you hang out with us." Did he really think that would win me over?
It did the exact opposite, actually. I didn't want to be around him, much less his friends as well.
I blew out a breath in agitation, ignoring the way my palms began to sweat at the thought of being around a crowd of people, especially people as popular and talkative as his friends.
"I answered your questions yesterday.” My voice was harsh, and I was hoping it would deter him. "Make something up in your report and leave me alone.”
I turned on my heel and started to walk away from him, but he grabbed my wrist, halting me in my tracks. My heart pounded in my chest. I quickly yanked my wrist away from him, going into defense mode immediately. My eyes narrowed into slits, and I did my best to ignore the way sweat began to trickle down my back as my anxiety levels spiked.
"I'm not going to make something up, Tracey." I flinched slightly at his harsh tone. "Get over yourself, and just come hang out with me."
"If you can't hear, then read my fucking lips." I wanted nothing more at that moment than to get as far away from him as fast as I could. I still had nausea churning in my stomach from him grabbing my wrist. "Leave me the fuck alone."
I turned on my heel, and this time, I successfully marched away from him. I blew out a harsh breath and drew in a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down once I was far enough way.
I hated the teacher that assigned this stupid project. I hated the class that I was forced to take with her as my teacher. I hated Kaleb for trying to become fucking friends with me.
I just wanted to be left alone! Was that really too much to ask?
It wasn't as if I could change my class either. I would have to fill out forms and talk to guidance counselors. Every student had to that tried to change their courses. I knew that the school wouldn't allow me to change my class just because I didn't want to do a stupid project.
Besides, my refusal to do this project would only bring about questions that really didn't need to be asked and that I frankly just couldn’t answer.
I walked into the school building and leaned against the wall in my usual spot by the English hallway, hoping that no one would approach me. I didn't want to talk to anyone, and I didn't want to deal with anyone.
More specifically, I really didn’t want to deal with Kaleb.
My history teacher that assigned this ridiculous project and Kaleb walked up to me a few minutes later, and anger rose in my chest, making me clench my hands into fists at my sides.
Great! He had fucking gone and told the teacher that I wasn't cooperating with him.
Could this shit possibly get any worse?
"Miss Olive, could you please come with me to the classroom? I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes before class.” Then, she turned on her heel to go down the hallway, expecting me to follow behind her.
With a heavy sigh, I pushed off the wall and followed the teacher and Kaleb to her classroom, my anger simmering just under the surface as I glared at their backs. This wasn't how I wanted this to go. I didn't ever want to be recognized. All my other teachers had gladly let me work on my own and fail instead of dealing with the problems and the fight that I put up against them.
Why did she have to fucking care? Why didn't Kaleb just fight to get a new partner that would actually cooperate?
Oh, that was right. Because he was Kaleb Brinson, and Kaleb Brinson was the fucking golden boy.
The teacher closed the door behind her, effectively shutting the three of us into the classroom. My guard went up instantly. Sweat trickled down my spine. My stomach churned.
I didn't like this. I didn't like this one fucking bit.
I wanted out of this classroom. I was trapped.
"Miss Olive, Mr. Brinson claims that you refuse to work with him on this project. I’m also hearing that you've told him that he should just make something up for his paper." She planted her hands on her hips, her disappointment in me clear as day on her face.
I glared at her with defiance gleaming in my eyes. "Yeah, I did.” She recoiled slightly since she had obviously expected me to lie to her. "Do you have a problem with that?"