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)
I buy Shaley a new wallet as a thank-you gift for covering for me the other night, and I buy myself a pretty rose gold ring with linked hearts all the way around. It looks nice with my newly shaped and polished nails. I wonder if Tor will like it.
After shopping, we head to lunch. It’s a late lunch, but time got away from us. It’s been nice just hanging out with Shaley, having a little girl time. It’s been so long since I’ve done this with anyone, and I’ve never had someone else foot the bill. Even when I was in middle school and went to the mall or the movies with my friends, I would use my babysitting and birthday money to pay for things so I didn’t feel guilty about costing my family money they might not have been able to afford.
I think it doesn’t bother me with Tor because I know he can afford it. I don’t know the specifics of his financial situation, but I know there’s at least a trust fund.
Shaley informs me that her lousy boyfriend expects her to split the tip when they go to Applebee’s, and I’m baffled all over again as to why she’s with this broke dude who apparently ignores her. Shaley’s beautiful, inside and out, and she deserves a guy who is attentive to her needs, not some ass who takes her for granted.
Toward the end of lunch, I find myself thinking about Tor. Maybe it’s just because Shaley has been talking about her less-than-amazing relationship, and the contrast with Tor is highlighted since he literally planned and is treating us to this whole outing, but part of it is also knowing he’s doing “family stuff” without knowing what that entails.
When the server brings over the bill, I pick up my purse so I can pay with some of the money Tor gave me. I haven’t had my phone out while we were eating because we were talking and I didn’t want to be rude, but I take advantage now to light up my screen and see if Tor texted me.
My heart nearly stops when I see a bunch of missed notifications, but not from Tor. They’re from my mom. She’s called me four times and sent a bunch of text messages.
“Everything okay?” Shaley asks. “Are you out of money? I can get lunch. You paid for everything else.”
“No, no.” I wave her off. “It’s not that. I just—my mom sent me a bunch of texts…” I trail off as I read them and see that she’s freaking out because apparently somebody told her about me going down to the police station. “Shit.”
I need to call Tor, but this might be a popcorn or fruit punch situation. I don’t even know which time she’s talking about. Did someone tell her about when Tim was killed, or about when I had to answer questions about Russell?
I don’t want to go home and find out, but I should probably deal with this. I’ve put it off for long enough.
“Is everyone okay?” Shaley asks uncertainly.
“Yeah. It’s fine. I just need to go home and talk to her. I wasn’t going to get change, anyway.” I tuck the cash into the black padded envelope and close it. “Are you okay if we go?”
“Of course, I was done anyway.”
“Sorry about rushing you out of here,” I say, pushing back my chair and standing.
“No worries. I get it.”
“We should totally do this again sometime. I mean, if you want to.”
She flashes me a smile as she pushes in her chair. “I’d love to. I had fun. Thanks for inviting me, and thank Tor for me, too.”
We walk outside and head to our cars. We parked right next to each other, so I offer a wave as she climbs in her car, and I get in mine.
Once I’m alone in the car, I start the ignition so the air-conditioning starts cooling it down, then I shoot Tor a text. “Can you talk?”
He texts me back right away. “Kinda. What’s up?”
“I never told my mom about having to go to the police station. She found out somehow, and she’s pissed.”
“Pissed about thinking you might be involved or pissed that you didn’t tell her?” he texts back.
“I don’t know. Both, probably. Shaley just left, so I guess I’m going to head to the house now and deal with this.”
“Well, don’t take any shit,” he tells me. “You’re eighteen, so you really don’t have to tell her anything.”
I scoff a little. “You don’t know my mom. She’s very much the ‘you live in my house, you live by my rules’ type.”
“Eh, that’s a solvable problem. If you don’t like her rules, you don’t have to live at her house.”
“That’s easy for you to say. Your parents basically gave you a house when you turned sixteen.”