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)
Before I can finish listing the reasons for my regret, he reaches into his pocket. He draws his hand out, closed around something, and my heart skips when he drops the bracelet into my hand.
“My bracelet! You saved it.”
He nods. “I may have come into the apartment when you weren’t here.”
Sighing, I rush over and throw my arms around his neck. “Thank you so much,” I say, kissing his cheek. “You’re the best man to ever live.”
He chuckles, winding an arm around my waist. “Damn, I should save your jewelry more often.”
“I promise to never again hurl anything you bought me into the trash in a fit of anger.”
“Hey, it’s better than other ways you could express your anger,” he says lightly. “But, speaking of things you might have done when you were angry, we do need to have a discussion about Shaley.”
My face drops, and so do my arms. “Why? There’s nothing to worry about with Shaley.”
“Did you tell her anything? I’m not mad if you did. You just need to tell me the truth so I can handle it.”
“I don’t like the way you handle these things,” I inform him.
“I won’t hurt her,” he assures me. “I know she’s your friend. I also picked her out in part because she seems… malleable. If you told her anything you shouldn’t have, I’m sure we can fix it. I just need to know.”
“I didn’t,” I assure him. When he side-eyes me like he doesn’t entirely believe it, I’m more insistent. “I really didn’t. I was a mess, but I have enough experience with you at this point to know better. I kept my mouth shut. Shaley’s great. She didn’t press. She was just there for me despite not knowing why. She surmised that we had a really bad fight, but… that’s all. Well… I mean, you did send someone to stalk us until I left her house, so that left her with the impression that you’re a little controlling, but I believe we can smooth that over.”
He nods, his mind working to put together a repair plan. I can practically see the wheels turning, but they’re not heading anywhere dangerous, so I let go and return to the task of getting us some juice to go with our breakfast.
CHAPTER 44
CASSIE
Life gets back on track.
I haven’t been working on my personal essay like I should have been because I thought college—and especially Calhoun University—was no longer on the table, so I’m a little behind—again. Tor books our flight and gives me a hard deadline because his dad’s friend needs to get the paperwork handled so they can get started on my admission.
But when I start looking at what I wrote in my journal at Shaley’s house, I realize maybe I was working on my personal essay, and I just didn’t realize it.
Tor gives me my old journal back, too. I know he didn’t intend to, but maybe what I told him that night settled the last of his lingering thoughts about my interest in his brother. Maybe he finally accepted that I’m obsessed with him, too.
I immerse myself in writing again. I draw up my plans and lay out the structure I expect, but then when I start typing, I let the narrative guide me. Once I have the bulk of it down, I don’t come up for air until I’ve wrangled every word into place.
I’m so proud of it when I’m finished, but I’m nervous, too. What if it’s not good enough for them? What if the admissions people at Calhoun take one look at it and immediately know I don’t belong there? “How did she get in? We would never have approved this imbecile. Throw her out!”
I need a second opinion, so when Tor comes over, I give it to him to read. I don’t even let the poor man sit down, I just shove it in his face as soon as he comes through the doorway.
“Tell me if it’s bad,” I warn him. “I don’t think I have time to completely rewrite it, but I’m sure I can… I don’t know, rework it if it’s too... I don’t know, just read it.”
“You’re already in, Cassie. It doesn’t even matter. They just need something to file.”
“It matters to me,” I insist.
Tor shakes his head, taking my essay.
I watch anxiously as he reads the first line.
I know it’s a little provocative.
I also know it’s potentially uncomfortable to make him read it because there’s some ambiguity about the reality of certain aspects of our past, and in the best-case scenario, I’m still talking about his brother. But when I sat down to write, it was the first line that demanded to be written. That was where it all started, the only beginning there could be. It almost felt like a crime to change it, to try to file down the edges and make it any easier to swallow.