Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
He’s vile, and by not telling anyone what happened, it’s as if he and I have a secret. When I told the smallest part of the story to Brooks, it felt like a lock had been removed that tied me to that jerk. I was a tiny bit freer.
Me: I’m busy. Take care.
Lewis Lemon: No worries. I’ll see about getting us at the same table so we can have some time to chat.
I turn to Gianna. “Now what do I say?”
“Who is this creep?” she asks.
“Remember when I had to get stitches in my leg?” I ask, my voice wavering. “Him.”
“Him what?” Gianna asks.
“We were going to go on a date. Well, we went on one, technically, but it went really bad. He was rude to everyone, talked too loud, just … not good. Bad vibes. I didn’t know what to do, so I tried to duck out and call a rideshare, but it was taking them probably twenty-five minutes to get there because we were so far in the middle of nowhere. So, eventually he comes out looking for me and I’m still there. And he’s pressuring me to just let him take me home.” I sigh, cringing. “He drew a knife out of his pocket and said I had a thread on my dress. And, he bent down to cut it before I could say a word and sliced me instead.”
“Audrey! Oh, my gosh! What the actual fuck?” Gianna yelps.
Astrid pulls away. “He cut you? On purpose?”
I wince because I don’t know. “I want to think he didn’t, but I can’t promise it without feeling too uncertain to recant. And it did get me in his car because I needed a ride to the ER for stitches. We were together probably an hour that night, and I think he tried to kill me twice. Maybe not kill me kill me, but I saw too many terrible ends.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Astrid asks, hurt coloring her features.
“Because I was embarrassed. And I know that sounds like a tired excuse, but I felt so, so out of my league. It was just easier not to talk about it.”
Astrid hugs me. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could talk to us.”
“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just leftover rules that hadn’t been discarded in my head about how I was supposed to act, speak, and behave. But, you know, that date with Lewis was a catalyst for me wanting to do something different. I mean, it’s terrifying to feel nervous about standing up for yourself.”
Lewis Lemon: I can send a car for you at the airport. Shoot me your information and I’ll get it arranged.
“Pushy much?” Gianna asks.
“I know. I’m going to have to play dodge the lemon all night Saturday, which is precisely what I don’t want to do.”
Astrid twists her lips in thought. “Are you scared of him?”
“Yeah. Of course, I am. He’s a lunatic. I’ll just have to be on high alert.”
“Or, you could tell your parents,” Astrid says. “Get him removed from the list.”
I stand, yawning and stretching my arms over my head. “Not gonna happen. Business is business.”
And even though I know it’s the truth, I hate how that makes me feel. Powerless, something I’ve worked hard to avoid feeling, but this one is possibly outside my wheelhouse and would open up too many closed subjects with my parents.
Besides, I must give myself a bit of leeway. I’m a strong girl rookie. I’ll get there.
Still, I wonder if Dad would’ve removed Lewis from the guest list if he did know what happened between us. Maybe I should’ve told him.
Ugh. My head aches just behind my eyeballs, and this is too much thinking even for a girl who’s a veteran overthinker. I’ve always wondered if there was an overthinking limit. Guess I’ve answered that question.
“I love you both, and I’m so thankful you’re here and love me like you do,” I say. “But would you mind if I take a nap for a little bit? My eyes are burning from the crying and driving.”
Gianna nods. “Sure. Pick a room. Just close the door and no one will bother you.”
“And I think I will stay here tonight, if you don’t mind. The thought of driving any more today makes me ill.”
“Oh, Auddie. You don’t even have to ask. You know that.”
Astrid shrugs. “Fuck it. I’m staying, too. We’ll have a sleepover.”
I hug each of my friends, keeping my composure until I’m nestled in the purple bedroom at the end of the hall. Then I cry. Because I might not be broken, but damn it if my heart isn’t pretty banged up.
Lewis Lemon took away my safety and instilled terror, and I survived.
Seth Cranton stole my confidence and I made it.
Brooks Dempsey gave me sexual confidence and a few days of bliss, but I’ll survive that, too.