Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Shit.
“You new here?” a voice asks beside me.
My brows furrow as I turn to find an unfamiliar face staring back at me, and I shake my head as I take her in. She’s stunning, definitely someone who will have jaws dropping all over the school. She has the kindest smile I’ve ever seen, immediately putting me at ease. “Nah, just trying to figure out where the hell I’m supposed to fit in all of this,” I tell her, feeling as though I can be honest with her.
“Me too,” she says, sparing a glance toward the busy cafeteria, looking as though she’s about ready to pass out with nerves. “I’m Hope. I just transferred from St. Michael's and don’t know a single person.”
“Well, now you know me,” I tell her with a wide smile, wondering if she knew Noah back when he was a junior at St. Michael’s, raising hell all over campus. “Come on, we can be clueless together.”
Hope smiles back at me, relief in her eyes as she loops her arm through mine, and we stride across the cafeteria to the one empty table left in the room. We make ourselves comfortable, and as I give her the rundown of the school, I don’t miss the curious glances I get from Tarni across the room.
“Okay, so there’s probably a few things you need to know about this school before you decide to get too close to me,” I say, giving her a fair warning about what it will mean to be my friend. “I um . . . I’m dating last year’s quarterback, which kinda put me on the shitlist with the cheerleaders, and well . . . the cheer captain, Shannan. She was supposed to graduate but didn’t. So now she’s repeating her senior year, and I can guarantee now that Noah’s not here to scare her away, she’s going to try and make my life a living hell.”
“Shit,” she says, her brows arching. “She sounds like fun.”
“Oh yeah, she’s a real treat,” I tell her. “I’ve been mobbed in this very cafeteria too many times than I care to count. Not to mention, she trained the whole student body to chant trash every time I walked into a room last year.”
“That’s um . . . kinda terrifying, but also,” she says in a teasing voice, “props to her for having that kind of pull over such a big school. That’s certainly impressive.”
“I mean, I have other descriptive words for it, but sure, let’s go with impressive.”
Hope laughs, and her blonde ringlets fall over her shoulder, framing her pretty face. “Seriously though, I’m not into that shitty behavior. I find it embarrassing. People who act like that . . . I don’t know, they might as well be holding a sign above their heads saying I’m insecure. It’s not cool, and I’m sorry that you were tormented like that over something so silly as being with the person you love. At least, I don’t mean to make assumptions that you’re in love with this mystery boyfriend of yours, but like, are you?”
I laugh, a wide grin stretching over my face, and before I can even respond, Hope’s grinning right back at me. “Oh yeah. You’re definitely in love with this guy. What did you say his name was? Noah?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” I say. “Actually, you might know him. He would have been a senior at St. Michael’s last year, but he transferred.”
“Quarterback, you said?” I nod and she scrunches her face. “Maybe. But to be completely honest, I’m not into football. Now, those scrawny computer nerds with cute faces who blush every time a girl looks their way—Now that’s what I’m into. As for your boyfriend, the name kinda rings a bell, but I couldn’t put a face to the name even if I tried.”
I smile. The thought of having a friend who isn’t in love with my boyfriend eases my fears and makes me want to keep her. “Um . . . Okay. So totally don’t judge him on this, but you might know him as the guy who burned down your principal’s office.”
Hope’s jaw drops, and she gapes at me. “No way,” she breathes. “Okay, yeah. I know exactly who you’re talking about.” She laughs and shakes her head, almost unable to believe what she’s hearing. “Wow, girl. I have to be honest. You don’t strike me as the kind to go after the typical player bad boy.”
“Dare I ask what type you think I would go for?” I ask, not bothering to correct her on the typical player bad boy comment. She wouldn’t understand.
Hope looks at me for a moment, really thinking it through. “I don’t know,” she says thoughtfully. “You definitely seem like a girl who goes for the athlete type, someone with a sexy body, but not someone high up on the roster who’s going to give you a hard time when it comes to other girls. I don’t think you’re interested in that shit. Maybe like, the typical nice guy, golden-retriever vibe.”