Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
“Oh. My. God,” she squeals. “Babe, this is incredible. Unbelievable. I mean, what are the chances that you would hook up with Dawson Davis?”
“Is that where you went last night? Hooking up with some hockey player?”
I turn and feel my heart drop into my stomach when I see Zack Winters standing there, a deep frown on his face like he’s a disapproving parent or something. I didn't see him walk up and have no idea how long he's been standing there or how much he overheard.
Zack is tall—though still half a foot shorter than Dawson—and kind of gangly. His mousy brown hair, hazel eyes, and pale complexion add to his nondescript appearance. He’s the kind of milquetoast person you’d meet and totally forget about five minutes later.
Zack has been in a couple of my classes, and he’s glommed onto me. I made the mistake of talking to him and being friendly, and now he won't leave me alone. Lately, his behavior has gotten weird. Creepy. He’s turned up in places I’m at, claiming it’s all a strange coincidence or twist of fate that brought us together when I know it’s anything but that. Lately, he’s been acting possessive and jealous whenever I’m talking to somebody, and it’s starting to freak me out.
I've tried to subtly sever ties. I always leave class before him or make some excuse as to why I can't hang out and talk. I’ve tried to be nice about it but he just hasn’t taken the hint. If anything, he’s clinging to me even harder. I refused to go to campus security because I didn’t want to be a bitch or get him into trouble. I have a hard time being mean to people. But that’s a decision I’m starting to regret because he’s obviously just not getting it. Or more to the point, he’s not wanting to get it.
“I was waiting for you,” he says. “First at the bar when you said you were going to the bathroom, then outside the dorms. But you never came home last night. Were you with this hockey player all night?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation, Zack.”
“She doesn’t owe you anything,” Sammy growls.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Samantha,” he fires back. “I was asking why Devon left me standing there at the bar when she said she’d be right back.”
“I wasn’t there with you, Zack.” I’m trying not to pull my hair because he’s seriously grating on my nerves right now. Have been for a while. “We weren’t there together. I mean, you get that, right? You just showed up.”
“To see you—”
“That’s not her problem, dude,” Sammy says.
“This isn’t your business, Samantha, so shut up,” he spits.
Sammy recoils like he just slapped her, and the blood in my veins starts to boil over. My body heats up as the anger rises within me like a dark and malevolent tide, and before I know what I’m doing, I step forward and thrust my finger into his face, pulse pounding in my temple.
“Don’t you dare talk to her that way,” I snap. “In fact, don’t you dare talk to her at all. And while I’m at it, leave me alone too, Zack. You don’t own me. We’re not even friends. Not really. And I don’t owe you an explanation for anything.”
“You don’t mean that, Devon. We’re friends,” he whines. “We’re a lot more than friends.”
“Only in your mind, Zack. And from here on out, don’t you dare think about talking to me. Don’t even look at me. Just leave me the fuck alone!”
And with that, I grab Sammy’s arm and we head away quickly, leaving Zack standing there, his face red, his eyes narrowed, and people all around him whispering and giggling at his expense.
5
DAWSON
It’s hard to miss the furtive looks or hear the hushed whispers as I walk through the student union. I’m well-versed in ignoring them, though.
I’m on a mission. I weave through the maze of tables that fill the center of the cavernous room, my eyes in constant motion. It takes a few minutes, but I finally spot her. With a wide smile on my face, I make my way over to the table where she's sitting with half a dozen of her friends. When she looks up and sees me standing there, her eyes widen in shock and a startled laugh bursts from her throat.
“Dawson,” she gasps. “W-what are you doing here?”
“Practice ended early because we’ve got a game tonight, so I stopped by to see you.”
Three of the six other people at the table recognize me, and their expressions are even more shocked than Devon’s. They exchange looks and quiet words as she stands up and pulls me off to the side, her cheeks flushing and an adorably awkward smile on her lips.
Behind us, her friends are gaping at us and whispering amongst themselves, all while trying to keep from making it look too obvious they’re talking about us. It makes me laugh.