Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Dylan doesn’t go to the library. She’s not a terrible student, but if she can’t research it from her phone, then the assignment is too big of an investment.
She was no doubt up on Phelan’s Throat, practicing.
I pick my dirty sheets up off the floor and dump them in the hallway to take down and wash later. My room smelled weird when I got home last night, and not a single one of my teammates, including Farrow, came clean about having sex in my fucking bed while I was at my parents. I don’t think he would. He has his own room, but someone did. My bed was a mess, and Dylan wouldn’t have left it like that if she just came in to use her vibrator.
Plus, I know what her body smells like, and that wasn’t it. I tore off my sheets and grabbed the spare set in my closet.
Reaching into my desk drawer, I pull her toy off the charger, re-clean it under scalding hot water in the bathroom, and dry it off, putting it back underneath my pillow. I almost smile, thinking what a kick Kade would get out of finding out that I sleep with a dick under my head. If he didn’t hate me, he’d find it hilarious.
I’m glad I didn’t see him last night. I stayed late, pressing my luck, but he was still out when I said goodbye to my parents. I’m happy the night ended on a good note. My mom and dad deserved that.
Slipping on a hoodie, I leave the house, lock the door, and jog to my car. Farrow is probably already at the Rebel Revel, a pop-up party whenever there’s a flood warning in effect. Of course, we won’t stay at home tonight like we’re supposed to. Danger is too exciting for some people. Especially Dylan.
I cruise the streets, driving past Breaker’s, up to Phelan’s Throat, and then the library, but I don’t find Dylan or the new bike Farrow gave her parked anywhere. Maybe she’s already at the school.
Leaves fly off trees and float through the air, and I drive down the empty main street, between abandoned mills and warehouses and the broken signs of long-lost businesses. The red stoplight blinks and bobs on the cable above as I cruise under it and make my way back up toward Knock Hill.
My phone rings, I grab it out of my hoodie, hoping it’s Dylan.
But I look at the screen, seeing Jared instead. My chest caves a little. My uncle doesn’t ever call with anything positive.
I answer it, though. “Hi.”
“Dylan’s not answering her phone,” he says right away. “Have you seen her recently?”
I’m about to say yes, but that’s not true. I haven’t laid eyes on her since last night.
“Just a text earlier today, saying she was doing homework at the library,” I tell him.
“A library?” he repeats. “Dylan?”
Right?
“Everything okay?” I ask.
It doesn’t seem weird that he hasn’t spoken to her. I know they’re in the middle of an argument. But I would think her mom has spoken to her.
But he just replies, “Everything’s fine. I just need to…to talk to her. Have her call me?”
“Sure.”
“If I don’t hear from her in an hour, I’m coming over.”
If he comes over, he’s going to see she’s completely unsupervised by an adult.
I take a sharp right, heading immediately to the school. “Will do.”
I wait for him to end the call, but he doesn’t.
“How… How is she?” he stammers.
I know it’s hard for him to ask. To appear vulnerable.
Jared’s not like my dad, who wears his heart on his sleeve. Jared gave hugs, but not like the ones in my house. My dad is never the first one to pull away.
“She’s good,” I tell him.
At least she was last night.
“Tell her to call me.”
“Okay,” I reply. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
Lightning flashes across the sky, rolls of thunder following, and an electric current courses under my skin. Maybe it’s the weather. Maybe it’s the anticipation of whatever the night will bring. I don’t care what happens, I just want her to myself for a little while. In a week, she’ll be packing up what little she has to head back to the Falls.
Speeding through the school lot, I find a pool of cars and motorcycles already here.
I pull over and park, hopping out and running for the building. Security cameras perch on the corner of the brick edifice, as well as more on light poles, half of which have burnt-out bulbs. None of the cameras work, though. Which is why the Rebels often get away with sneaking in. Teachers don’t realize anyone was here until they find beer cans all over the locker room.
Heading to the gym, I shake the leaves and whatever else has flown into my hair, the music pumping all the way down the hall. I yank open the doors, strobe lights swerving up and down, lighting an area and then casting it in darkness again. There are no other lights as people dance, and I look over at a couple making out against the wall to my right. I can just make out his hand up her skirt, inside her panties, fingering her.