Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I cannot stand being his friend.
The desire to go after her is immediately replaced by the urge to plant a facer on Rick—right here, right now—in the hallway at school. I clench and unclench my right fist, which hangs at my side.
Rick lets out a loud, satisfied sigh and says, “She’ll come around eventually. They all do.” He clamps his hand down on my stiff, aching shoulder in an effort to be congenial.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I growl, shaking out of his grip.
“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” He grabs a Pop-Tart from the box I keep in my locker for emergencies because, well, I’m always hungry. Rick proceeds to rip open the foil wrapper, making a ton of noise, then stuffs it in his mouth. “Man, you really need to get laid.” As he chews my Pop-Tart, crumbs fall from his mouth. Now I really want to pound the piss out of him.
“Couldn’t you just leave her alone when she said she didn’t want to go out with you? Christ, you’re pathetic.” I snarl at him as I slam my locker shut with a loud bang that echoes in the corridor, and I walk off, leaving him gaping at me.
CHAPTER 5
MOLLY
“I am not the Jerk Whisperer. If I were, I’d write a book about it and make millions.”
– Tasha
A few hours later, Jenna and I are lying around my den, snuggling up on the couches, texting our friends, and of course, gossiping. Pretty Little Liars is on in the background, as usual.
“So, okay, tell me again how Rick tried sticking his junk in your face,” Jenna says, snickering.
“Oh my god. Shut up, Jenna. It was terrible.”
“But also kind of funnyyyy…or…no…?”
“You’re a shitty friend, do you know that?” I shout it out, even as we both burst into hysterics. I can’t help it—the girl makes me laugh.
I pick up a pillow and throw it at her.
“You know, I bet he has a small penis,” Jenna says as she reaches for the pretzels sitting on the ottoman and pops one in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “That’s why he had to grind his hips in your face, so you’d know it was there.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Well, Lana Dubois said he does, and I guess that’s enough proof for me.”
“Well, Lana would know. She’s seen enough of them.” We snicker. Hey, I’m not trying to be rude, but Lana gets around…if you know what I mean.
“So, you didn’t try to look at all?” Jenna tries again. “Check out the package? I mean, since you were down there by it…”
“You’re sick, do you know that?”
“You’re not sick enough!” She tips her head back and talks to the ceiling. “I try and I try with her… She’s such a disappointment.” Jenna shakes her head in mock disgust, and I throw my head back too before bursting out laughing.
“You try with me? How! All you think about is sex, and you haven’t even had it yet!”
Of course, this is the exact moment my mom decides to pop her head into the room, because duh, that’s how life works when you’re a teenager still living in your parent’s house. They always catch the dumb shit you don’t want them to hear.
“Ladies.” She doesn’t say anything else, but instead stands there assessing us from the doorway. She’s wearing an apron and has an oven mitt on her hand. I know she heard the shouting, and I know she heard the word sex peppered into my last sentence. I can tell she wants to say something, but she puckers her mouth and chews on her lip instead. This is my mom’s classic signature move—pursing her lips when she’s displeased.
“What’s up, Mamma?” Jenna asks, smiling broadly. Ugh, she is such a brat—but a brat that both my parents love. “Are you baking, Mrs. W?”
Odd, given that it’s almost seven in the evening. My legs are getting hot, so I stick my feet out of the blanket that’s covering my lower half.
“Actually, yes. I started baking cupcakes for Shelly’s Bunco party tomorrow night. I won’t have any time tomorrow because Rex needs to be taken to the vet, among other things.” Rex is our seven-year-old Golden Retriever. “If you hear the doorbell, can one of you grab it?” At my questioning gaze, she asks, “Has your dad talked to you yet?”
“About…?”
“He has some students coming over for that focus group, you know, for the changes they’re making to the stadium? I don’t know if he mentioned it, but the meeting is tonight.”
“Yes!” Jenna pumps her fist. “Ba-ring on the hotties!”
Remember how earlier I mentioned my dad is on the school board for our district? Well, our region was fortunate enough to receive a grant with sufficient funds to completely overhaul the sports complex, which is crazy outdated, so my dad created a steering committee of actual student athletes to provide insight—which only makes sense, since they’re the ones who use the facility.