Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
5
Jill
Monday morning can’t come fast enough.
I want to see Zach again.
Even if he made me promise to keep this new part of our relationship a secret at school, I just want to be around him. Even more than usual—and that is really saying something, considering I always feel like I’m holding my breath until that first glimpse of him in the hallways of Juniper High.
Once again, I’m surprised how bold I was in his bedroom on Saturday night. But I wasn’t lying when I told Zach I trust him. That trust made it easier to let go and then it was like flying. Every time I think of our reflections in the mirror, I shiver, the walls of my flesh compressing, prickly heat racing down to my toes. Has he been thinking about it nonstop, too?
Maybe once we’ve spent some more time together, he’ll want to be with me. Out in the open. He won’t be worried about his fellow honor students judging him for dating the head cheerleader who could barely pass geometry.
Zach was really sweet to call me intelligent the other night, but I know he was just being kind to me, like he always is. This is the same guy who once pretended to ride a roller coaster with me at Six Flags, then snuck me out the exit door before we could actually board the ride, because I was terrified. And then he bought me a waffle cone, sat beside me on a bench and waited for everyone else to catch up.
He’s the best. That’s why I love him.
So I need to be happy with the arrangement. And anyway, no one can stop me from daydreaming about us walking down the hallways holding hands.
A little flip in my stomach signals that Zach is coming.
I check my reflection in the mirror I have taped up inside my locker and brush nonexistent wrinkles from the skirt of my blue and white flowery sundress. Swallowing the butterflies in my throat, I turn my head to watch Zach approach and my knees go weak. He’s a foot taller than any of the students he passes, so cool and unassuming in his jeans and navy long-sleeved shirt, pushed up to the elbows, backpack over one shoulder. Boots. A few days’ growth of his beard.
My thighs squeeze together at the memory of him driving those huge hips against my bottom. I’ll wreck this pretty little cheerleader ass. I’ll fucking wreck it.
Anticipation crackles in my tummy. Want for more. If he asked me to make out with him right here and now, in front of everyone, I would do it without question, because I’m that desperate for more of his kisses. More of his fingers on me. Inside me, maybe, next time.
Zach’s moss-green eyes find me through the sea of students and they warm, his mouth lifting in a lopsided smile. Is he going to come talk to me? In front of everyone? That wouldn’t be unusual, right? Everyone knows we’re close because of my friendship with Harper.
He keeps coming in my direction and I know I’m smiling like a total idiot. His gaze travels down the front of my dress, catching on the short hem where it brushes me high on my thighs. A muscle ticks in his cheek. I’m aware of my appearance enough to know these heeled sandals do a lot for my legs, making them look longer, and I hope he’s picturing them wrapped around his waist. I hope he can’t wait another day to touch me. I can’t.
When Zach is about ten feet away, something in his expression changes. He looks at something behind me and his stride slows. I glance back over my shoulder and see my friends from the squad are closing in, huddled together and laughing at something on one of their phones.
And when I turn back, Zach is gone.
Quickly, I turn and bury my head in my locker, so no one will witness the burning humiliation on my face. I expected Zach to be standoffish in front of the smarter kids, but the cheerleaders, too? Maybe he just wants to avoid anyone speculating that something might be going on.
After all, when one word of gossip is whispered at this small school, everyone has heard it within the hour.
Stop being so sensitive. You knew the rules.
With a restoring breath, I reach into my locker for my sociology textbook, but it’s nowhere to be found. I must have left it at home. Shoot. The sociology teacher deducts points for not being prepared in class and I really can’t afford to have my grade falter.
I turn to one of my friends who are chattering away at the locker beside mine.
“Hey, Mindy. You don’t have sociology today, right?”
“No.” She combs her fingers through her bangs. “Tomorrow.”
“Is your book in your car? Can I borrow it?”