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)
I wasn’t about to fill her in on it now.
Gawd, I can’t even imagine the advice she’d give me.
Stella was more sympathetic, stroking my hair in bed as I simpered, telling her some parts of the story and leaving out others.
“…And she just marched up and said she was fucking him?” Stella’s voice was filled with disbelief. Horror. Shock. “No, she did not.”
News flash: my best friend had actually heard whispers about it through the campus grapevine, but hadn’t known I was in the center of it, considering that as far as she knew, Drake was Drew, and Drew was just a dude in my Mass Comm class who I went for burgers with.
“Yes. And when I had heard enough and wanted to get the hell out of there, she was shouting at me to leave. Basically calling me a chicken, I’m shocked she hadn’t started clucking like one.”
It was awful.
“Oh my god, Daisy, you have got to be shitting me. I can’t believe you put up with that shit. I wish you could have knocked her ass on the ground.”
Same girl.
Same.
Stella begins parting my hair to braid it, the simple act has a calming effect.
“I didn’t think I would cry, to be honest.”
I’ve had a whole range of emotion, shock being the biggest one. Embarrassment, another.
I’m embarrassed.
There, I said it.
I did nothing wrong, but there you have it.
“You can’t let her words have power over you.”
I glance up at her, my head still on the pillow. “Well, I can if they’re true.”
“You don’t know if they’re true or not.”
No, I don’t.
But I also don’t appreciate her being Master of the Obvious when I’m trying to sulk and be mad.
Stella goes on, the paragon of common sense. “He could easily have dated you and slept with you and still kept seeing her on the side. But didn’t you just get done telling me you put him on a sex ban, and he took it like a champ?”
Yes. I had told her that. “I had sex with him on date four.” I pout. “I had a weak moment.”
“Technically, you said it was date five.”
“Stop throwing my words back in my face.”
“I’m giving you facts.”
“So you don’t think he slept with her?”
Stella chooses her words carefully. “What it sounds like to me is he had slept with her in the past—and then told her he wasn’t interested anymore, and she…didn’t take it very well.”
Didn’t take it very well?
“Bit of an understatement.”
“It could have been worse, who are you trying to kid? She could have slashed his tires or pretended she was pregnant with his baby. Screaming at him in front of a few people is hardly the end of the world. She was probably fine until she saw the two of you together yesterday, holding hands. It was a slap in the face that he kept her behind closed doors and didn’t want to be in an actual relationship with her. That’s gotta sting.”
“Why are you always trying to put things in perspective?” And so good at it, too.
“’Cause I have three sisters, and I play mediator between them more times than I can count. Joanna is the worst.”
I let my body relax into the mattress. “I keep forgetting you’re one of four.”
Just like Drake.
Ugh, damn him, why won’t he leave my brain?
“When are you going to take his phone calls?” Stella finally works up the courage to ask. “He’s stopped by the house twice, and I will say this about the guy—he is no quitter.”
I roll my eyes. “He can’t help himself. He’s competitive.”
“That has nothing to do with it.”
I disagree. “That has everything to do with it.”
“You need to hear him out. You can’t hide from this.”
“I’m not hiding. It’s only been a day. I’m processing, there’s a huge difference.”
“Or. You’re avoiding having to deal with it by laying on your bed and demanding I braid your hair.”
“I’m not demanding you braid my hair, I’m—"
“Knock, knock.”
A tall, brown-haired girl is standing in the doorway who is most certainly not Gabby, wearing black leggings and an oversized hooded sweatshirt. I’ve never seen this person a day in my life, and for a second, I fear it’s one of Shannon’s roommates here to kick my ass.
“Hi. Sorry for interrupting,” she says, hesitating in the doorframe. “I’m…”
Ryann Winters.
Dallas Colter’s girlfriend.
Drake and Drew’s roommate.
“Can I come in?”
I sit up straight on the bed, brushing the hair out of my eyes. “Hi. Yes, come in.” I scoot across the bed as if I were making room for her—as if she were going to plop down and join me.
To my surprise, she does.
She kicks off her shoes by the door and climbs onto the bed next to Stella and I, and oddly, it doesn’t feel weird.
Clearly, she’s here for a reason, and that reason can only be one thing: to come to Drake’s defense.