Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
The woman seemed to have done what she wanted because the smile pasted on her face was one of pure satisfaction. “Aw, look. The big baby’s crying. Wah.”
Finally, she moved to the side of my car and when I drove off, I heard her yell out, “Bye, bitch.”
I cried the entire way home.
And that was the last time I would go grocery shopping on my own.
In fact, it was the last time I would go anywhere on my own.
When I got home, I plead a headache, went straight up to our room and threw myself into bed, fully clothed. I turned off my phone because I wasn’t an idiot. Soon, the notifications would start rolling in. I didn’t want to see them. I didn’t want to hear that woman and her entitled yelling. I just wanted to sleep and wake up when social media had found its next victim.
It wasn’t long before my super sweet best friend, Roxie, came looking for me and it was almost as though she could feel my emotions. She lay beside me, quiet and still, and rested her chin onto my belly. I scratched her behind the ear and sighed, speaking more to myself than my doggy friend, “People can be so cruel.”
I know it was something people said but to me, it was something people had done. They had done it to me my entire life. And it was something they continued to do.
I wondered if there would ever be a time when kindness would be cool. I secretly wished and hoped and prayed for such a time. Alas, today was not to be that day. I knew as much when the bedroom door opened then closed and Connor walked over to the bed. He sat down, looked at me with tender concern, stroked my cheek with gentle fingers and asked softly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I couldn’t help myself. I huffed out a humorless laugh, “Already gone viral, has it? Cool.” Covering my face with my forearm, I pretended not to care as my heart broke. “So, I had a day. Who hasn’t? It’ll blow over. It always does.”
“Emmy,” Connor uttered gently, guardedly, and his tone had me lifting my head to look him in the eye. When he didn’t return my gaze, my heart stuttered. And when he took my hand, his thumb rubbing my knuckles, I knew something was wrong. He tried to break it to me gently, his tone even but quiet, “Something else happened, baby.”
Oh, yeah. Something was very wrong.
Great. Just great. “Tell me.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
I frowned. “Tell me, Connor.”
“I can’t,” he said firmly before lifting his chin to look at me. “It’s something I have to show you.”
My body felt numb. And I could feel Connor’s hesitation.
As he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, I moved to sit up against the headboard and prepared myself knowing it was bad. He handed me the cell, not bothering to watch with me. After all, he’d already seen the shitshow.
The woman on the screen looked familiar but I couldn’t pinpoint from where. She was pretty with long blonde hair, a full face of makeup and a wide mouth.
“Hey, guys,” She waved and smiled, “It’s me, Bee. Do I have a story for you?! You’re going to love this. Okay, so I’m minding my own business and this video comes up of this The Violet Dame being cornered and yelled at. She’s crying and all I can think to myself is, ‘I know that girl.’ Mind you, I can’t think of where I know her from so I keep watching. And she’s getting upset, like, real upset. So, I’m watching and watching, and then she says, ‘Please leave me alone,’ and the way she says it, it’s like,” she clapped, hard, “Boom. I’m back in high school.”
I gasped as recognition took hold. “Becky Amour.”
My heart rate beat in my ears as she went on, “Marshall High, to be exact. And I’m totally punking myself out, telling myself it, ‘It can’t be her, it. It isn’t her. You’re being stupid, Bee…’ But it is her.” The cat-like smile she wore was one of pure victory. “Guys,” she started slowly, taking in a deep breath and letting it out through her nose, “I know The Violet Dame.” She chuckled to herself. “And you’re not going to believe it when I reveal who she is. But we’ll get to that.”
No.
My breathing turned heavy and my vision blurred.
No, no, no. Please don’t.
But she would. Of course, she would. Compassion had never been Becky Amour’s strong suit.
“Before I go on, I think I should explain to you a little theory I’ve been working on. As you know, Left Turn is one of the most popular bands in the world. And that’s what I do. I follow the music scene and report on the inside news.” Her attitude changed completely. Pasting on a huge fake smile, she quickly added, “If you like this video, you know what to do. Hit like and subscribe for more news like this and, oh boy, do I have news.”