Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Wren’s horrified eyes turn to me with concern. My mom has the nerve to start crying.
“I’m so sorry, Scottie. I am so, so sorry,” she says through her tears. “I regret it every day. Every single day, I regret what happened. I regret it so much and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”
“I want her out of my room,” I say. “Now.”
My dad doesn’t hesitate to jump into action, stepping forward to gently grip my mom’s arm and guide her to the door. But before she goes willingly, she pulls something out of her purse and sets it on my bedside table.
“I’m sorry, girls. I’m so sorry,” she says one last time, and then, she willingly leaves the room with our dad.
“Scottie,” Wren whispers, emotion in her throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
When I see her tears, her sadness, it makes it impossible for me to stay strong. I’m an asshole for doing it like this, but I can’t take it back. Tears of my own flood my eyes and flow down my cheeks. “I knew it would hurt you.” I laugh sardonically. “Turned out a whole lot better with you finding out now, huh?”
Scottie
“You come first above our mother,” Wren says. She sits on the edge of my bed, and her hands clutch mine tightly as I finish telling her the whole sordid tale of my freshman year at Dickson. “Always. Don’t ever forget that.”
Dane. Nadine. Finn and fights. It’s a lot to take in, but at the end of it all, Wren is more determined than ever to prove her loyalty to me. I appreciate it greatly, but it doesn’t change the colossal challenges that are left ahead.
“I can’t believe Dane ended up being such a…” She pauses, and I don’t have any problems finishing her sentence for her.
“Asshole?”
“Sis, I don’t even think that’s a strong enough word for him at this point.” She shakes her head. “He ended up being way different than I envisioned when you first started dating him in your junior year.”
“I know.” I sigh. “Trust me, I know.”
“I hate that I’ve been so out of the loop,” she says, and a small frown etches across her mouth. “From here on out, I refuse to go that long without talking, okay? I want to know everything that’s going on with you. All of the college parties and classes and boyfriends,” she says, waggling her brows. “Or maybe boyfriend,” she emphasizes with a laugh. “He hasn’t left your side, and I really like him. Normally the cute ones aren’t this sweet.”
Her words make discomfort wiggle inside my chest, and I look down to where my legs sit on the bed. Her talking about college parties and classes and boyfriends is a stark reminder of what I’ve lost. I’m probably never going to walk again. Definitely never going to cheer again. Everything that’s been my identity for so many years can no longer be a part of my life.
I’m the paralyzed girl now.
A million questions roll through my head, none of which have a simple answer.
Will I still even be able to go to Dickson without my cheerleading scholarship? I don’t have a job, and I know my father can’t afford an expensive university like Dickson on his middle-class income. He worked himself to the bone to pay for me to go Ivy Prep, and that was less than half of the cost of college at Dickson.
And medical bills? How is my father going to pay for those? Surely those are racking up every second that I sit here in this bed. It’s not like I’m going to be able to help him right away. I have to go through rehab and physical therapy, and who in the hell wants to hire a girl in a wheelchair who can’t hold her bladder?
And Finn? How the hell can I even think about saddling a nineteen-year-old guy with the world at his feet with a paralyzed girlfriend in a wheelchair? I don’t even know the logistics of how possible it is to ever have sex again. Surely having kids is out of the question too.
I’m spiraling by the second, but Wren is still busy with all the things a girl with two working legs thinks are important.
“So, this thing with you and Finn…is it—”
I suck my lips into my mouth, and she clams up as Finn and our father step into the room. They have bags of food from the cafeteria in their hands, and they’re both smiling as they chat about something funny that happened when they were in the elevator.
Outsiders would probably think this is strange behavior from my dad, seeing as he just had to escort my mom out of the room. But I think after years of dealing with Stephanie Bardeaux—through marriage and then divorce—he’s grown numb to any and all of her drama.