Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Several people have their phones out although I see none pointed in our direction.
“Oh fuck off, Drake, if you weren’t such a goddamn liar this wouldn’t be happening right now, would it?” The girl turns to me and laughs. “He lied to you. That night you were out at the bar and he pretended not to know me, he was there pretending to be his twin brother.”
She gives me a triumphant look, eyes gleaming.
I nod. “I know.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“But did you know we were sleeping together?”
No, I did not.
I suspected it, of course, but everyone has a past, and I wasn’t going to judge him for his—unless he was sleeping with her while he was sleeping with me and lying about it…
So many things pop into my brain. When was the last time they had sex? Did he say the same words to her that he’d said to me? Did he make her the same promises? Had he asked her to be his girlfriend?
Was he cheating on her with me?
Or was he cheating on me with her?
“Don’t you have anything to say? Your boyfriend is fucking me.” She looks triumphant—her words stabbing me in the heart, and the back, like a knife.
“I am not fucking you,” Drake grinds out, gritting his teeth.
“But isn’t that what you called it when you came to my house last night? Fucking?”
“Oh my god, I was not at your house last night,” Drake shouts back at her. “Enough.”
Shannon laughs. “Oh—so you didn’t come over last night.” She rolls her eyes. “Gotcha.”
If Drake’s look could kill, she would be a dead woman.
“You know I didn’t go to your house so we could have sex.”
Her laugh is positively gleeful. “So you admit it. You were at my house last night.”
“Dammit, Shannon. Why are you doing this?”
“Because it’s not okay to use me. You’re only dumping me because you don’t like complications. Everything would have been fine as long as I don’t develop actual feelings.”
It’s not okay to use me…
“Dumping you would imply that we were dating, and we weren’t. Stop twisting everything around.”
But he had gone to her house last night. He just spoke the words out loud for me, and everyone, to hear.
Knife, twist in back….
I drop Drake’s hand, not needing the contact—nor do I want it—my eyes volleying back and forth between the pair of them as they argue. Shannon’s steadfast commitment to her truths has my head spinning.
“I…I need a minute.” I press a few fingers to my temple, taking long strides in the opposite direction, walking toward my house. It’s across campus and down a few blocks, but I have to get away from this place right now.
I have to—
“Yup. Good. Run away!” Shannon calls to my back as I speed walk. “Don’t stop!”
I don’t stop until I’m home.
fifty-two
drake
Don’t be a pussy. Eat one.
I cannot fucking believe Shannon right now.
She’s causing a scene because I don’t want to fuck her anymore? Correction: she’s causing a scene because we were fucking and she caught feelings that I do not reciprocate and it’s pissing her off.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Guess I’m lucky all she did was cause a scene in the Quad, albeit in front of Daisy, though to be fair, I’m a bit glad she was there because having to explain it after the fact would suck major balls.
“…that what you called it when you came to my house last night? Fucking?”
“Oh my god, I was not at your house last night. Enough.”
“Oh—so you didn’t come over last night.” She rolled her eyes. “Gotcha.”
The.
Fucking.
Audacity.
And I have to live next door to her.
God has a funny sense of humor, doesn’t he?
Obviously, I followed Daisy home, if that’s what you’re wondering—of course I did. But that roommate of hers, Gabby, wouldn’t let me through the door when I’d arrived, slamming the door in my face because Daisy didn’t want to see me and needed time to think.
Fine.
Okay.
Deep breath.
I can deal with her needing time to think; what I couldn’t deal with was the girls next door fucking shit up every chance they got.
There was no way for me to prove that Shannon is full of shit. The only thing I can do is wait for Daisy to come to the conclusion on her own; give her the time and the space to sort through the shit.
In the meantime, I have to enlist an expert on the subject.
fifty-three
daisy
Once my self-esteem is back at 100% you will be dead to me.
No amount of crying has helped me decide how I feel about this.
Crying in the shower felt good but a bit melodramatic.
Crying in bed felt great but also lonely.
I couldn’t call my mother and tell her any of this. She would hate Drake forever.
I couldn’t call Drake to tell him how I was feeling: he was the cause of this. And I certainly couldn’t give all the gory details to Gabby, though she did her best to pry them out of me—she’s already angry about men in general and knows nothing about my budding relationship with Drake in the first place.