Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 129955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
I spin around to demand answers out of Cruz but he’s too far away, so I stalk into the classroom and put myself right in front of Grayson, knowing damn well that he’s not about to give me the answers I need. “What the fuck is going on?” I demand, hissing as the students fill the room around us. “Why are you assholes taking over my classes? Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”
“Trust me,” he grunts, leaning back in his chair and looking up at me with those stormy grey eyes. “I have a million better places to be than sitting in on your American History class.”
“Good, then go do them,” I tell him, stepping around his single desk and dropping my books onto mine.
“No can do,” he says.
Anger pulses through me. Why the hell do I find it cute when Cruz does it, but so irritatingly frustrating when it’s Grayson? “Why?” I demand. “What’s the purpose of you guys sitting in on my classes? Do you have some bullshit roster? Who am I going to expect to come barging into my chem class? What about English?”
Grayson just stares at me before silently slicing his gaze back to the front of the room and watching as my teacher comes in and starts setting up for his lesson, refusing to answer me. But what’s new? I knew that was going to happen.
Grayson has made it obvious since day one that he doesn’t like me, so out of all of them, he confuses me the most. Why does he bother? If he doesn’t give a shit what happens to me, why is he always there, always protecting me and putting himself at risk to keep my ass safe? It doesn’t make sense. The only explanation I have is that the other guys give him no choice, which in the long run, only makes him resent me more.
His little speech by my bike this morning went a long way in proving that. He wants me to stay away. He can sense the dynamics changing, and he doesn’t like it one bit. But if I’m completely honest, I don’t want anything to do with their dynamics. I want out. I want so far out that they won’t even remember me being here, yet for some reason, they’re constantly pulling me back in.
My History teacher gets on with his lesson, and with every passing minute, my irritation for the boys only gets stronger, wilder, and grows so much more frustrating. Grayson sits in silence beside me, and it only serves to eat away at my patience.
God, I can’t wait till lunch and give them a piece of my mind. This bullshit is not going to fly.
The minutes tick by extra slow, and by the time the bell sounds, giving us a break, I’m ready to start raging. Yet when I make my way out to the quad to find the guys, I come up blank. How is it that they’re everywhere I don’t want them to be, but when I need them, they’re nowhere to be found?
Fucking assholes. They’re doing this on purpose.
The rest of my day drags by like a bad smell, each of my classes completely overtaken by assholes. Though I’m just that unlucky to have both Grayson and Cruz already in my Math class, so I guess I can’t be angry with them about that. However, my point is still there, and despite not having a valid reason to be pissed, I’m damn furious.
After the end of school bell has rung loudly through the Academy, I find myself flying out of the school gates, intent on beating them at their own game. If they think they can avoid my wrath, they’re dead wrong.
Knowing their eyes are on me, I pull my helmet over my head and ride out of the student parking lot like my ass is on fire, glancing in my mirror to watch the four of them come together and start walking down to the black Escalade, looking pretty fucking proud of themselves.
I take off, knowing that once I hit the end of the street, they won’t be able to see what direction I turn from the school. Being a sneaky, conniving bitch, I turn right toward the expensive part of Ravenwood Heights and park my bike in the bushes outside of Carver’s home, more than ready to bust some balls.
Twenty minutes pass before the Escalade comes tearing down the street and pulls to a stop at the top of the driveway. I hear their chatter inside the car as Carver’s window is rolled down and he hashes in the code for the gate.
I push back into the bushes, keeping myself hidden and the second the gate opens and the Escalade disappears down the long drive, I make my break.