Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
“Yay!” She claps again, causing the cherry tomato on her fork to pop off. It flies toward me, and I put my hand up, surprising all of us when I deflect it before it beans me in the head. Unfortunately, my flailing arm smacks into someone walking by, and a tray goes clattering to the floor. Something warm splashes my leg.
Lovey and Lacey cringe, and I shudder at the high-pitched shriek behind me.
“Oh my God!”
I don’t want to turn around, because then I’ll be able to see how many people are staring at me. As it is, the entire table in front of me has turned around to see what the commotion is about. I can’t do nothing, though, because it’s my fault my leg is covered in someone else’s lunch. Judging by the temperature and texture, it’s likely soup.
I turn slowly, feeling wet warmth trickling down my calf, ready to issue an apology and offer to pay for the lunch that’s now on the floor. But my voice gets caught when I realize the girl is familiar. She’s the one who was talking to her friend on the phone about Kodiak after she’d been with him that first day. Even worse, one of the other girls is in my art class.
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” Her lip curls, and her eyes narrow. “Do I know you?”
“I’m sorry. That was totally my fault,” Lovey says.
The girl’s eyes shift from me to her, and then to Lacey. “It’s your fault this klutz spilled my lunch all over the floor?”
As if some kind of karmic god has heard my prayer, BJ drops down at the table between Lacey and Lovey. He slings an arm over both of their shoulders. “It’s my favorite set of twins.” He turns his face into Lovey and rubs his scruffy beard all over her cheek.
She shrieks and pushes him away.
“Hey, BJ.” The girl from the first day tosses her hair over her shoulder and gives him a simpering smile. Apparently the dropped soup and my missing apology are totally forgotten.
BJ glances at me, concern coloring his features for a moment before he turns his megawatt smile on the girls behind me. “’Sup, Bethany.”
“Are you guys having a party this weekend?” she asks.
BJ shrugs. “Dunno.”
“Well, if you are, me and my girls are up for some fun.”
“I’m sure you are.” BJ nods, but I can tell he’s fighting not to laugh, or say something incredibly malicious.
“Okay, well, hopefully see you around.” She and her friends strut down the aisle, leaving the broken bowl and a puddle of soup at my feet. It’s actually spread all the way to my backpack. I pick it up off the floor and set it on the seat beside me. I nab a napkin and wipe the soup off my leg. It must have been some cream variety because it looks like a cross between puke and jizz. It’s also all over my favorite pale purple Chucks, which means I’ll need to wash them when I get home.
BJ blows out a breath. “That girl is off her tits.”
“What’s her deal?” Lacey asks, lips pursed as she watches her walk away.
BJ shrugs, reaches around Lovey’s shoulder, and grabs a cucumber slice from her salad. “Dunno, but based on what I’ve seen, she’s been bouncing around the hockey team circuit like a ping-pong ball.” Instead of dropping his arm, he pulls Lovey in closer and pops the cucumber in his mouth.
She rolls her eyes and elbows him in the side. “Why is it okay for guys to sleep with whoever they want and girls get labeled as sluts if they do?”
“I’m not calling her a slut. I just don’t think it’s smart to try to hook up with guys in the same friend group. It creates unnecessary drama.” He raps on the table. “Anyway, I got to get to class. Just wanted to stop by and say hi. I’ll see you later, Lav?”
“Probably?” The only place I tend to go other than home is the library or Lovey and Lacey’s, so there’s a pretty solid chance I’ll see BJ later.
I use a handful of napkins to mop up the puddle of soup before we take our trays over to the garbage and head out. Lacey and Lovey both have class. While we’re walking, Lovey sends Dylan a message asking if he’s interested in tutoring a friend in economics.
He responds right away, asking which friend.
Lovey throws me a saucy smile as she types my name. Less than fifteen seconds pass before a new message appears:
Dylan: When and where? I have time this afternoon.
Which is how I end up at the library less than an hour later in one of the study rooms with Dylan. He suggested a café, but that would feel too much like a date, and I’m less likely to run into any of my family members in the library.