Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Like you can say a damn thing. You fucked Voldemort in the restroom.”
I felt Zepp and Bellamy’s attention shift to me.
“I did not fuck her in the restroom,” I said. “And you can’t compare Lola to Smith. Lola’s hot.”
“You think so.”
She was. Lola was the hottest, most gorgeous girl I’d ever laid eyes on. Perfect. She was perfect.
“She’s a five point five at best.”
I had the urge to punch Wolf in his gimpy-ass face but stopped myself.
“Speaking of Lola–” He flinched, ducking behind Bellamy because he expected me to punch him.
“Holy shit!” Zepp leaned away from the table, shocked. He knew the rule… “He didn’t hit you.”
Wolf nodded. “Yeah. Because he’s fucking her.”
“I am not fucking her.”
“Oh, speaking of the ex-girlfriend you’re not banging.” Wolf snatched his drink from the table, smirking like a bastard. “Daniel Baites gave me ten bucks to find out if you would eat his face off if he asked her to homecoming.”
I wanted to say I would rip his limp-noodle dick off his body and shove it up his prolapsing, corpse asshole, but I bit back every Tourette’s-laden insult my brain wanted to speak into existence. Because I wasn’t supposed to f-u-c-k-i-n-g care. I bounced my leg under the table, imagining that football jersey-wearing dickhead asking her out and her actually saying yes.
“I don’t give a shit what anyone does with her,” I said, forcing myself to look at some blonde in a short dress. Because that was acceptance.
Chapter 31
LOLA
Monday, I got into Kyle’s car, grateful as hell to be out of school. That was the day from hell.
Daniel Baites had asked me out. In the cafeteria, with everyone, including Hendrix, watching. And Hendrix…did nothing. Not even so much as a jaw tic. Worse, Daniel said Hendrix didn’t care.
He was past jealousy…past caring.
I had finally gotten Hendrix Hunt to give up on me, and wasn’t that what I’d wanted? To keep him at arm's length, put distance between us…
He’d done that, though. The moment he had killed Sid. That murder might have been the death of us, but Hendrix giving someone else the okay to date me? That was a funeral pyre, burning our remains. And God, did it hurt.
Because I loved him. And I hated him. And I didn’t know how to stop doing, either.
Kyle dropped me off, and I trudged inside the house, then hurried to my room. Hendrix was the last person I wanted to run into right now and seeing as I lived with him, that was going to be difficult.
I’d just flopped down onto my bed when a loud crash rattled the house.
“There’s shit on my face!” Hendrix shouted, panic lacing his voice.
Oh, God. A pipe in the bathroom must have exploded. Sewage everywhere—including Hendrix’s face. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. Karma was a bitch.
Footsteps pounded up the steps. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Zepp’s voice came from the hall.
I got off the bed and slowly cracked my door, expecting to see a river of shit flowing freely over the floor. Instead, Hendrix shot into the bathroom, covered in dust and debris like some kind of war survivor.
“How the hell did the ceiling fall in?” Zepp stood in front of the open bedroom door, gaze aimed up.
“Hendrix was probably swinging off the lampshade,” I mumbled, taking in the plaster and dust and bits of bird’s nest that covered Hendrix’s bed.
Oh, he was going to love that last one. He’d had an aversion to bird shit ever since we’d watched a documentary about pigeons carrying sixty different diseases. And if the crap on his face was bird shit…
I glanced at the closed bathroom door and smiled. Karma. “E-coli,” I said, loud enough to carry over the running water of the shower. “Salmonella.”
Zepp’s dark gaze met mine. “Not the time, Lola.”
It was absolutely the time. Ignoring Mr. Grumpy, I went back to my room to do some homework.
I’d nearly finished my calculus assignment when a loud conversation between Hendrix and Zepp floated through the door.
We can’t afford to fix that.
Well, we can’t just let it rot.
Zepp had just gotten out of prison. Hendrix barely scrounged up enough selling weed and stealing stuff to cover half the bills…And it wasn’t like I was raking in loads by hotwiring cars once a week for Sweet Willy.
I scribbled out an equation, trying to ignore how desperate they both sounded. I didn’t want to give Hendrix a thing after what he had done to Sid. But I also didn’t want the house to become condemned…I could give him an in with Willy. It wasn’t like it would take money out of my pocket.
I worked out another problem, then another, trying to block out their raised voices. The house finally fell silent, and after I had finished a few more questions, I went downstairs to grab a glass of water.