Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Since apparently Landon has gym last period and can be late, he walks me to class. When we stop in front of the door, I glance behind him and see Richie walking past, talking to some other girl. His eyes connect with mine for a second, and I expect him to glare, but he doesn’t. He just frowns.
Hot and cold. I’m not sure which one the frown is. And it feels good to not have to care.
My eyes go back to Landon. “Thank you for helping me during lunch.”
“No problem.” He leans in, and for a second I think he’s going to kiss me, but he bypasses my lips, his mouth stopping a hairbreadth away from my ear. “Hopefully I’ll see you later,” he whispers before he walks away, leaving me standing in the doorway by myself. I watch as he saunters down the hall. He’s wearing another hoodie today, which reminds me of last night. Instead of wearing my usual pajamas, I wore his hoodie to bed, falling asleep to the smell of his comforting scent. When I woke up, it no longer smelled like him, so I threw it in the hamper to wash, so I can give it back to him. Briefly, I wonder if I can somehow convince him to trade me—a fresh Landon-smelling one for the clean one—without sounding like a creep.
Unlike my morning classes, the last period of the day flies by. Since basketball season is over, so is cheer, which means I can head straight home. I want to show my mom our talk meant something to me, so when I get home, I pull the chicken out of the fridge and make dinner, so she won’t have to do it when she gets home.
Dad is out, probably pretending to look for a job while really getting drunk at the bar, and since I’m an only child, the house is quiet. Melissa sends me a text asking what I’m up to, but I ignore it, not wanting to hang out.
While I wait for the chicken to finish, I help Mom by picking up the house. I gather Dad’s dirty clothes and throw them into the washing machine, then pick up any papers I find and put them in the bill drawer. As I’m about to close the drawer, I notice a couple of envelopes have bright red lettering on them with words such as final notice and overdue. I grab one and read it. It’s the mortgage, and it’s five months late. I put it back and take another one. The electric bill, and it’s overdue. I pull one more out. It’s a credit card statement for close to fifteen thousand dollars and it’s late.
Mom has said things are tight with Dad being out of work, but I didn’t realize it was this bad. Just as I’m shoving all the papers back into the drawer, I notice an envelope with my name on it. Opening it up, I see it’s my prepaid college fund. My parents took it out for me when I was born so my college would be taken care of. I read the letter several times, in shock. My parents cashed it out. My college fund is gone. How could they do this? Why? They know how important college is to me. I can never afford to go to NYU now. With us living over four hours away, I would have to pay to live in a dorm. Without this money, I’ll never be able to afford that.
The timer goes off and I pull the chicken out, placing it on the counter. I glance at the time and see Mom isn’t due to be home for another couple hours. I wrap the chicken in foil and leave her a note to enjoy, then take off. I’m driving around for what feels like hours when I realize I’ve ended up back at Landon’s place. His car is in the driveway, so I know he’s home. He mentioned seeing me later, but we didn’t actually make any plans.
Not wanting to knock in case his dad is home, I send him a message that I’m outside. A minute later, the door opens and Landon is standing there in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. His entire upper body is dripping wet and so is his hair. With intricate tattoos covering his shoulders and arms and chest, Landon is the definition of bad boy.
“Kind of cold outside to be half-naked,” I joke. Sure, it’s a bit warmer than usual, but it’s still cold as hell outside.
Landon smirks. “It’s warm in here… Wanna come in?”
“Sure.” I shrug a single shoulder, suddenly nervous. I’ve never been in a guy’s room aside from Richie’s. And for some reason, even though we dated for seven months, I’m more nervous about going into Landon’s.