Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 146605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
“Okay, I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I pitched it to the school board and they gave me the green light,” Faith says excitedly.
“What idea?” Whitney picks up her soda, taking a small, delicate sip. Everything she does is delicate.
“About the school not doing anything with Healing Homes.”
“Oh.” Her kissable lips form a perfect O.
“So a lot of schools have Soup Kitchen Clubs. The club does things for the community and people in need. This will essentially be the same thing, but it will only be for Healing Homes.”
“I love that.” Whitney’s whole face lights up. I’d kill to get her to look at me that same way.
“For now, we can set up tutoring for some of the kids. If you tutor or whatnot, you can count it toward community service. Everyone is looking for that on their college applications. Plus we can start a coat and gloves drive too. Winter is coming. This will be our starting point. Then we can roll out new ideas.”
“Then the club will be here long after we’re gone to still be doing good,” Whitney adds.
“Yep!” Faith is as happy as Whitney about the idea.
Whitney starts coming up with more ideas and things that might need to be handled over lunch. Ace and I sit and watch them. I’ve never seen Whitney talk this much before. I soak up as much of it as I can get before we all have to head back to classes.
“Babe, we have dinner at my place tonight,” Ace reminds Faith.
“Crap. I forgot. I told your mom I would help cook. It’s fine. We’ll take Whitney home and then we’ll head over.”
“I’ll take her home,” I cut in, my eyes going to Whitney watching for her reaction. Her head is down once again. Today she clipped her silky hair back with some clip thing that doesn’t let her hide behind her hair as she often does. It makes me want to go buy a million of those clips in different designs and colors so she can no longer hide from me.
“Thanks, Knox,” Ace rushes in to quickly say. He gives me a pointed stare, telling me not to fuck this up because he gifted me with a small in.
“I should get to my next class,” Whitney says softly.
“I’ll walk you.” I stand up and start cleaning off the table. I don’t miss the fact that Faith is side-eyeing me, but I ignore it.
“No, that’s okay, but thank you,” she protests. All I do is fall in line with her anyway as we exit into the hallway. “You really don’t have to.”
“I want to, Whitney. I don’t do things unless I want to.”
Her lips pull up in a small smile. “I accepted your apology. You don’t have to go out of your way. Really.”
“Again, I want to.”
She stops walking when we reach her classroom. “Why?” She finally tilts her head back to meet my stare head on.
“I enjoy being around you.” Her nose scrunches. My gut tightens as I fight the urge not to lean down and kiss the freckles that dance along her nose and cheeks. I’m drawn to her in a way that I didn’t even think was possible for me.
“I’ll see you after school.” She ducks into class before I can even respond. I drag my pathetic ass to my next class. My mind is already drafting ideas of how to handle the girls' ideas for Healing Homes. I’ll let them work out the ideas for the drives and those sorts of details. I’m thinking more along the lines of clocking everyone's hours and keeping track of the amount of donations and such. A few systems will need to be made. At least if you want it to be easy and efficient.
I jot down a few ideas and even text Oz a couple of questions. For the first time in a long time, I smile and am looking forward to something. Especially Whitney’s reaction when I show and tell her my ideas. It’s nice to have a spark inside of me.
Whitney is clearly responsible for it.
7
WHITNEY
There is something wrong with me. There has to be. I think all the years with my mom's many husbands have messed up my head. Since I’ve come to stay at the Osbornes’ home, all I can think about is Knox. At the same time, I do everything I can to avoid him at all costs.
I can see the flashes of aggression in his eyes. It both scares the crap out of me but also pulls at something deep down inside of me.
“Are you fucking Knox? Isn’t he like your stepbrother?” I jerk my head up. Megan has turned in her chair to face my way.
“He’s not my brother,” I respond before I go back to focusing on the book in front of me.