Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
My gaze catches on the notebook lying open on my dresser. Tor never gave my journal back, but he did buy me a new one. I haven’t used it for journaling yet, but the page it’s open on is full of ideas I jotted down when I was brainstorming topics for my personal essay for Calhoun.
A lump forms in my throat.
I close the notebook.
My chest feels tight as I grab my uniform and head to the bathroom to change into it.
Obviously, my plans will have to change, but maybe it’s okay. I don’t like living in Holbrook, but I like working at Chuck’s Chicken Shack. I love Shaley and Denise and Josh, and I like almost everyone I work with. I’ll lose the apartment, of course, but maybe Shaley would be open to having a roommate. She said her sister doesn’t even use that bedroom, and I could always sleep on the couch or in Shaley’s bed for a night or two when her sister comes to visit.
I don’t want to push myself on her, but maybe I’ll bring it up. Maybe she wants a roommate and just doesn’t know anybody looking.
All I know is I can’t do the last year again, so no matter how much it hurts right now, I have to pick up the pieces of my life this time. I can’t go back to how it was before.
My uniform is on. All that’s missing is the hat. I try not to replay Tor telling me I look cute in it as I pull my ponytail through the hole in the back.
A wave of nausea hits me when my gaze lands on the Dior daisy bracelet on my bathroom sink. I suck in a breath, but I try to take control of it. I close my eyes, breathing in and out several times, nice and slow.
I can do this.
I’ve survived this once. I can do it again.
Before I leave, I head back to the kitchen to grab my phone.
My heart sinks a little when I realize there are still no notifications.
He didn’t text me.
He didn’t call.
There’s not one attempt to reach out to me since I left his house last night.
Numbly, I lean against the counter and try to make sense of that.
Did he turn off my phone service?
Testing out the theory, I shoot Shaley a quick text to let her know Sprinkles was all taken care of, and a minute later, she answers with a “thanks!”
So I do have service.
He just didn’t call.
I’m a little stunned.
A lot stunned, actually.
And I can’t put my finger on why it makes me so sad.
I trusted him. I loved him.
He doesn’t even want to explain himself?
Not that he could, but he’s not even going to try?
Well, fuck him then.
I go back to the bathroom and grab the daisy bracelet, hurling it into the trash can.
“You can go to hell,” I tell him, just in case he’s listening.
Then I decide I don’t want to fucking hear from him, and I turn my phone back off.
My mind races as I drive to work. Nothing about this feels right. By the time I pull in the parking lot, I feel vaguely nauseous.
What if something happened to him?
What if he did come after me last night, but he never made it? It’s a holiday where plenty of people drink and drive. What if he got in an accident?
I shouldn’t even care what happens to him. I don’t care, I tell myself, but it’s too soon to feel like the truth. He conned me into caring, and now my head is just completely fucked.
He’s a liar, and I don’t want anything to do with him.
I also don’t want to think about any of this, and luckily, I don’t have to because it’s time to start my shift.
CHAPTER 40
CASSIE
It is a long fucking shift.
I’m depleted by the time I get to leave.
I left my phone off, but it never left my mind.
I feel like a fucking addict, fiending for a fix.
I tell myself it’s my humanity. I don’t even know if he’s alive. Maybe he drove into the lake last night for all I fucking know.
But deep down, I know that’s not what it is.
When Russell and I broke up, it happened after I lost feelings.
I didn’t get that with Tor.
I was building a future with him, and suddenly, the rug was pulled right out from under me.
I went from “it’s cute that you think I’d let you break up with me” to not hearing from him once today.
I don’t know what’s real anymore. What has ever been real.
My grip on reality is so fucking distorted, I don’t even know how to function.
I wonder if Carson ever put Myra through some shit like this. Maybe he broke her brain, and that’s why she gave up her grip on reality. It was just too hard to hold on to that and sanity. She had to pick one.