Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“She was totally holding hands with Professor Truman!” Zara hisses gleefully.
Professor Truman, or Porter Truman, Winchester’s newest and crazy hot new Math and Statistics professor, also happens to be Beckett’s older brother. And I know damn well that in the dark of the backstage area of the battle of the bands before Zara went on, I saw Kempton getting real cozy with both of the Truman boys.
“She was totally getting close with both of them,” I whisper heatedly.
“Scaaaanndalous!” Zara grins.
I snort. “I mean, are you really going to throw shade on the girl? You’re with three guys, dude.”
She grins. “Yeah, well, none of them are my teacher!”
We’re both giggling until the new art teacher, Mr. Wright, strolls in, silencing the room with a sour look.
“Okay, that is quite enough silliness back there!” he snaps in our direction. “Today, we’ll be studying Cubism, silently, to yourselves. Open your textbooks to chapter twenty-eight and be sure to take the questionnaire quiz at the end of it. You may begin.”
He waddles over to his desk and sits down, opening up a crime fiction book as he tunes out the entire class. I scowl, giving Zara a sideways look.
“I miss Ms. Hayes,” she says glumly.
“Same.”
“I wonder if she’s doing well in Chicago.”
“Yeah…” I trail off. Okay, I feel a little guilty not telling Zara that I know all the details about our favorite teacher, Ms. Hayes, and her departure from Winchester. I feel guilty knowing that, no, it wasn’t a job offer that sent her away literally overnight from Winchester to Chicago. It was that she and Jamison’s twin brother Ethan were caught in the middle of a pretty steamy affair. I know that the school covered it up quietly as to not stir up a scandal, and I know Ethan and Emily—Ms. Hayes—are happily living together in Chicago now. And I feel extremely guilt about not sharing that with my best friend, especially since she’s told me all about her wild love live secrets.
But Ethan and Emily’s story isn’t mine to tell, and I’ve decided to respect that until they say otherwise.
And then, there’s the bigger issue here. The bigger secret I’m not telling her. You know, the one where I’m sleeping with Jamison Scott. My soon-to-be stepbrother.
“Mr. Wright is the worst,” Zara groans. “I used to love coming to art.”
“Yeah,” I groan. “Same.”
“Less chit chat back there, ladies!”
We both frown as we bury our noses in the books.
***
“Heads up, Grimace is coming this way.”
I snort a giggle at Zara’s new favorite code word for Melissa Cruz. Ever since the paint bomb incident, which I’ve obviously told Zara about, and since Melissa still has purple-tinged hair, my friends decided to start calling her Grimace, after the big purple monster character from the McDonalds kids’ menu.
“Wonder what she wants,” I mutter.
“Your French fries, obviously.”
I laugh in horrible timing just a Melissa sidles up with a sneering smile.
“What are we laughing about, ladies?” she sasses out thinly.
“Melissa, how do you feel about French fries?”
Melissa fixes Zara with a withering look before she does her best to smooth it out. People like Melissa crack me up. Remember that whole thing about how most people go through high school sticking to the same clique? Well, Melissa is the perfect example. She’s full-blown popular crowd—cheer squad, custom painted white and chrome Porsche, a spending account at most of the top Madison Avenue shops in New York, and the stone-cold-bitch attitude to go with it all.
She’s conflicted, because she knows as a “popular girl,” she’s supposed to look down on a band nerd, artsy girl like Zara. Except Zara is currently dating Griffin Reeves, one of most sought after Football gods of the school, which is giving girls like Melissa aneurisms. It’s like they can’t tell what’s real anymore with one of the “uncool” girls suddenly skipping the line to be the hottest ticket in the school.
“I—” she frowns. “What do you mean, French fries?”
“Like would you steal them?”
“Huh?”
I grin, doing my best to hide my laugh as I glance past Melissa at Zara and shoot her a look.
“Never mind.”
“Right, well, whatever,” Melissa, shrugs before turning to me. And slowly, a grin creeps over her face.
“So, Ramona,” she says thinly.
“Hi, Melissa.” I smile. “You’re, uh, your hair is looking really good.”
By which I mean, “less purple.” She just smiles thinly at me.
“Yeah, great. Anyways, I just heard something, and I wanted to see if you had any input?” she says sweetly. Too sweetly.
I frown. “Um, yeah, what’s up?”
“Were you just hanging out with Jamison earlier?”
My face drains of color, and a knot forms in my stomach.
“Um, what do you mean? Yeah, I guess we were walking to class together?”
“Oh, how nice!”
Zara flips Melissa off behind her back.
“Well, I was just curious if you guys were… you know…” She grins wickedly. “Doing a little more than hanging out?”