Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I don’t know why I bothered showing up here at all after what happened back there. How am I supposed to concentrate on anything when I’m still trembling? I can smell his cologne on me, or maybe my brain won’t let me forget the smell. Either way, it’s making me sick, taking me back to that moment. Being helpless.
It’s useless, sitting here and trying to pay attention. One thing that always calms me down and clears my head is drawing. It’s part of the reason I was doing it last night, when Buck kept me up. I was hoping to lull myself to sleep, and it’s easier to do that when I’m feeling peaceful and relaxed.
It starts to work, too, as I loosen up. As usual, once I get out of my head, my hand takes over. I can focus on the work and not the pain.
Until. “Hey, if you’re free after class, I could use a BJ.”
I look before I can stop myself and find the guy who whispered it. He’s sitting two rows in front of me, smirking, while the guy sitting next to him snorts behind his hand. “Come on, I haven’t seen my girl in a week, and I could really use some relief. My balls are gonna explode.”
I can’t stand this. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to keep to myself and mind my business, somebody always has to ruin things. There’s soft giggling around me and now more people are staring, giving me dirty looks. Because all it took was Briggs accusing me of blowing him. No proof necessary, no listening to my side.
I’m too humiliated to sit here a minute longer. I don’t know how I’m ever supposed to graduate at this rate, when it means having to face these people every day. Right now, all I can do is cram everything into my new backpack and haul ass out of the classroom.
One good thing: Briggs isn’t waiting for me. He isn’t expecting me to be out of class yet. The day is looking up. A bitter laugh bubbles up in my chest as I almost jog out of the building with my head down. I have to get home. I can’t be here anymore.
It takes a second for me to realize what I’m looking at once I reach the parking lot. For the second time today, my foot hits a can, though this time it rolls across the pavement instead of crunching. A spray paint can is much stronger than a beer can.
Bright red spray paint which somebody used on the side of my car while I was in class. It stands out like blood against the white exterior, four letters that span from the front driver’s side wheel to the rear.
SLUT
6
BRIGGS
I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty pleased with myself. Getting her schedule was one of the best ideas I’ve had this week, closely followed by the blow job incident, and hearing that someone spray painted her car is just the cherry on top. I can’t stop grinning as I walk the hallway down to where I know her next class is. Today I have another exciting day of activities planned for me and my little bird. We’ll have so much fun. Well, I’ll have fun. She’ll hate every minute of it, just as I like it.
Giddiness spreads through me as I get closer to her class. I wait outside the door, leaning against the wall as I wait for her to come out. I’m not surprised when she is one of the first students to leave the room.
“Trying to outrun me, little bird?” I ask, pushing away from the wall.
She scurries past me, and I follow into step next to her. “Don’t you have anything better to do besides stalking me?” She huffs, holding onto her backpack strap so tightly her knuckles go white.
“Nothing better, no.” At least nothing that’s this much fun. “Where are we going? Your next class is not until an hour from now.”
“I’m going to the cafeteria.” She puts emphasis on herself like I’m not going to be right beside her.
“Good idea. I’m a little hungry myself.” I pat my stomach.
I catch her rolling her pretty blue eyes at me before she speed walks down the hall. I have no trouble catching up with her, my long strides matching her shorter ones with ease. I can feel the annoyance coming off her in waves and yet again, I couldn’t be happier with myself.
“You don’t have to run, bird. I’ll always be faster than you; there is no getting away,” I taunt, just to be met with silence.
A few moments later, we arrive at the cafeteria. The savory smell of lasagna hits me as soon as we enter through the large glass doors. My stomach rumbles. I wasn’t lying, I’m starving.