Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“Love of your life?!” my voice quivers, tears not just collecting in my vocal cords but my eyes now . “I was-”
“Are.”
I rapidly blink faster to prevent one from falling.
“You are the love of my life, Pres. You always will be. There’s just…there’s just so much shit you didn’t know and don’t know, and I don’t know, and that I do know that I didn’t fucking handle right.”
His botched arrangement of vague words wrinkles my forehead.
“I swear to you that I really didn’t mean to hurt you the way I did, baby. And I don’t expect you to forgive me like it was nothing, but Pres, I hate being away from you all the fucking time. I’d rather have you in my life as my friend than to not have you in it at all.”
“Friend?” His word choice offends my tongue like vinegar. “Friend?! After everything we went through together and all the promises we made and all the plans and you just shitting on it, you have the balls of steel to look at me and say that you wanna be friends?”
This is a trap.
This is exactly what it is.
Just another chance for him to look like the better person while the world watches.
Well, fuck him, because he may have successfully broken my heart, but he will not successfully win having a better reputation.
“Pres, I-”
“No, Collins.” Regaining my coolness on a deep breath, I casually plant myself against the car door beside him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Bambi would piddle herself during her shitfit, and Blaze would never stop whining or write the whine into a rap song or challenge you to a rap battle. It’s just…not a great move. Besides, the rest of the school would fucking riot.”
“They’re already fucking rioting.”
“It would be worse.”
He turns his body so that it’s facing me. “You really give a shit what other people think?”
“I do now,” I declare at a much quieter volume. “Don’t fucking act like you don’t.”
“I…I don’t.”
“Oh. Really? So, you’re dating the school slut because you really enjoy her witty sense of humor and enlightening views on Walter Whitman?”
Guilt pushes his gaze elsewhere.
“Yeah, don’t fucking come at me with that shit, Collins.”
“Stop calling me Collins.”
“Stop fucking lying to me then, which is what I’m learning Collins does.”
To my surprise, he doesn’t argue.
“Look, I don’t know what caused you to start giving a fuck about other people and their opinions and their fucking uninformed judgments, but something did, and now you do. And sadly, in response to your…shitty handling of ending us, now, so do I. So, no, we – Pres and Ry – can’t just be friends.”
“I don’t really wanna be fucking friends,” he swiftly states, weakness in his voice as much as on his face. “What I want is my fucking girl back. The one I went and got a tattoo for.”
Blindsided by the new information, I stumble out the word, “W-wh-what?”
Ryder turns around and leans forward to allow me to lift his shirt up to reveal a huge compass rose in the middle of his back; however, instead of N S E W, the initials are P M R C.
Feeling suddenly sick to my stomach leads to me briefly covering my mouth. I stomp down the bile. Swallow the tears over and over again as they rise like the ocean at high tide. Unexpected claps of thunder in the background become my indication that now’s not only a good time but the time to walk away. And when I contemplate ignoring them, rain drops slowly plop onto my shoulders to be the extra push.
The additional encouragement to just leave.
When I finally manage to move my hand, I quietly croak, “I can’t believe you still got it.”
“I did.” Ry shoves his shirt back down as he turns back to face me. “I told you that I’ll always find my way back to you, baby.”
He suddenly moves closer.
Has his hips nestle themselves against mine.
Lowers his face into the space no longer meant for him.
“We may be a little lost now,” his tongue steals a swipe of his lips, clearly longing for mine, “but we’ll find our way back together.”
God…I need space.
I can’t breathe.
Fuck, I don’t know that I wanna breathe.
I don’t know that I want anything other than for him to keep talking.
“Whether that’s when we’re twenty or forty or eighty, I don’t know, but I do know that we’ll end up together because we’re soul mates, Pres. And…Nothing can ever change that.”
“Why?” I helplessly whimper. “Why are you doing this shit to me, Ry?! Why are you saying this shit to me?! You have a girlfriend! You have a fucking girlfriend that you love-”
“Don't ever fucking say that!” He corrects so loud I’m momentarily stunned silent. “I’ll never love her. I’ve never even fucking thought about loving her. She’s just an easy fucking lay.”