Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 112951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“Stop. I don’t want to hear that.”
“He was putting on a front. I’m trying to say that he’s cool. He’s a cool guy.”
“I know.” I frowned. He was being weird. This conversation was weird. “Are you trying to say something without saying it?”
“No. I—” He rolled his eyes. “I’m impressed, I guess.” His lip lifted up again. “You kinda have a type. You date older guys. You date up.”
Parker was a year younger than Blake, so he was three years older than I was.
I flushed. “Let’s not talk about him. Please.” Remembering my last conversation with Shay, I said, “And I’m not technically dating Shay.” I didn’t think.
“What?”
“It was never official between us.”
He snorted. “It’s official now. No guy would beat the shit out of another guy and try again even when cops were in the room for a side chick. He cares, Kenz.”
That lump was back, but it was resting on top of my throat. “It was me, Gage. I didn’t want anyone to know.”
I could feel him glancing at me, but I kept staring straight ahead. Tears blurred my vision, so I looked down to my lap. “He told me he liked me the last time I saw him, and I told him he was moving too fast.”
“Are you serious?”
“I went to him after Casey reported her rape. I didn’t think. It just felt right to go there. I got scared afterwards.”
He turned down Shay’s street. “You might want to stop bullshitting yourself.”
“Yeah.”
He parked in the driveway, and I took my cell. I’d barely used it once I got it back.
When I checked earlier that day, the voice mail was full. Hundred plus text messages. It became too overwhelming. Everyone wanted to know what happened. There were just as many people wishing me well. There were a few who said the opposite. I saw the first one and handed the phone over to Gage. There was nothing on there I was embarrassed about, and he went through the messages one by one. The ones who wished me harm were turned over to the cops. The well-wishers got a reply back saying it was Gage texting on my behalf, and a polite and general thank you greeting. Once they thought Gage was in charge of my phone, those texts stopped coming. Word must’ve gotten out they couldn’t get in touch with me that way.
Still, I made sure to send a few personal texts to Missy and Kristina. They wanted to make sure I was okay. I was, or I was better. I asked Kristina about Casey, who replied that she was doing better. Linde texted, too, and I thanked him, as well. But the person whose texts I read over and over again, yet still hadn’t replied to, were Shay’s.
I don’t know why I couldn’t reply.
I read over them again, from the first that he sent me that night.
12:38 am
Coleman: Heard something. Call me!
12:48 am
Coleman: For real. I’m hearing more, and I’m going nuts. If it isn’t true, I need to know or I’m going to do something.
2:48 am
Coleman: Gage said you’re in the hospital. So am I. I lost it, but I’d do it again. Text me when you can.
4:18 am
Coleman: Did something again. Thinking of you.
4:38 am
Coleman: I tried to see you, but got kicked out of the hospital. I can’t come in. Your mom’s interesting. I like your brothers. Good guys.
9:15 am
Coleman: Just left a meeting with coaches and some detectives. Lawyers, too. I’m not going to be charged, thank the fuck, right? Okay. You’re getting a pile of texts from me. Gage said you’re not doing calls or messages. Call when you can, if you want to.
11:17 pm
Coleman: I blew your cover. Word’s out. You’re going to be pissed, but I don’t even care. I told people you’re my girlfriend. It shut most of the rumors up, but figured I should text and let you know. I’m sure your brothers told you already. So. Yeah. Get pissed and call me, if you want. I’ll take the yelling. I’ll enjoy it, even.
4:23 pm
Coleman: Gage called. I told him, but texting you again. Yes. You can come to me any time, any day, any minute. I’m here. Or I’ll come to you.
It was a little under forty-eight hours later, and I texted him for the first time.
Me: We’re outside.
His reply was immediate.
Coleman: I’m here.
I looked up. He was gazing back at me from the driveway.
A sudden wave of nerves rose inside me. I’d avoided looking in the mirror so far, but I needed to see the damage. Taking a deep breath, I flipped down the visor. My mom wasn’t joking about the moldy pickle. The entire right side of my face was swollen with a Monet of black, blue, green, and yellow bruises. I had a fat lip.