Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Something like that,” I said, drawing a line over the sequin pillow.
Nora was my only friend beside Genevieve, but Gen was going to Brown, and I’d never tell her what I was considering. I figured Nora might understand, and I needed to talk to someone who wasn’t Bellamy. “I got accepted to Alabama State.”
Nora’s eyes narrowed as she put a toothbrush holder back. “I’m sorry. You did what?”
“I applied as a backup, you know, in case Cornell rescinded their offer after I got kicked out of my last school.” Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.
“Right….” She pushed the cart down the aisle, then stopped. “I know it’s bullshit, Drew, but I don’t blame you.”
“What?”
She closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath while mumbling that she couldn’t believe she was saying this… “He’s like, in love with you. Like big time. I don’t blame you.”
And that was the last thing I expected from Nora, because everyone else, including Bellamy, seemed to want me to go.
“He wants me to go to Cornell,” I said.
“Doubtful.”
I leaned back against one of the shelves with a groan. “I feel like I’m being stupid, and naive and completely ridiculous.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yeah.” And I hadn’t even told him that.
“Then stay with him. You can get a degree anywhere.” She turned down another aisle cram-packed with towels. “God, I hate myself for being on his side right now. He’s such an asshole.”
“This is a weird moment for me too.” I patted her shoulder. “I thought you’d be the first person to stick a foot up my ass and death threaten me into going to Cornell.”
“He’s a complete dick,” she said. “But I wish someone looked at me the way he looks at you.”
By the time I walked out of the store, my mind was made up.
50
Bellamy
I sat on the half-rotted picnic table in my backyard, staring at the letter in my hand that read: We regretfully write to inform you that you were not selected for a scholarship for the upcoming academic school year.
My leg bounced on the seat, my chest going tight as the hopes I’d had to get the hell out of here went up in a cloud of smoke. Then again, hadn’t it been stupid of me to think I would?
The bang of Nash’s screen door cut through the quiet afternoon.
“Hey, man.” Leaves crunched on the other side of the fence, then stopped. “You still out here?”
“Yeah.”
“You got any sauce?”
I balled the rejection letter in my fist and tossed it to the fire pit in the corner of the yard, telling myself I’d just have to push a little more weed, steal some extra cars, and go to the community college. Because I refused for this to be my life forever.
“Yeah, man,” I said. “Give me five and I’ll be over.”
I grabbed a baggie from my room, then headed back outside and climbed the fence to Nash’s yard. He raised a Budweiser from his tattered lawn chair as I waded through the overgrown grass to his dilapidated porch.
“Ten bucks.” I tossed the weed to him, and he handed over some cash.
“Dude, what’s the sad panda face for?”
“Just same old shit.” I sank to the chair beside him, trying to forget that my only options were still dealing and stealing for a short while.
“What’s up with you and the pink Porsche girl?” He jerked his chin toward my house, already pinching a bud from the bag to roll a joint. “She’s like, living with you or some shit?”
“Yeah.”
His brow lifted. “Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“Just saying, dude.” He tipped his chair back, skimming his hand over the knee-high grass. “She’s a rich girl.”
“Was a rich girl…”
“What do you mean, was?”
That I was not going into right now. “Man, just some bullshit with her parents cutting her off--”
“‘Cause of you.”
I swiped a hand over my face, watching the gnats dance in the late evening sunlight. When it got down to it, it was because of me. She wasn’t a rich girl anymore because of me…
“Oh, shit. You’re like, into her. Dude…” He whacked a hand over my back, patting me like he pitied me. “Hate to break this to you, but in a year or two, that girls going to resent your ass so much she won’t even be able to look at you. Take it from someone older, who's been there, done that, made those mistakes.”
Older. He was only twenty-one. He rolled a joint and passed it my way.
I took a single toke before handing it back. Just enough for the calming buzz to start working its way through my veins. “And what the hell do you know about rich girls, Nash?” I asked.
“Rich girl. Poor girl. They’re all the same when you take something away from them.” He placed the paper to his lips, eyes narrowing like he was thinking. “I dated this girl a few years back. Totally into her. Fucked like rabbits. I thought I was gonna marry her or some stupid shit. She got an offer to go out to UCLA to do some theatre bullshit.” Smoke billowed from his lips. “She’d always wanted to act, but when it came down to me or UCLA, she picked me. Then got pregnant. Then we broke up. And that was it. No UCLA. No chasing her dreams.” He offered me the joint again, but I declined. “And guess whose fault she thinks it is?” He thumbed at his chest. “Mine. And she fucking hates me.”