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)
Zoey: *Middle finger emoji*
Zoey: I can handle this. It’s just school.
Resident Asshole: School is torture.
Resident Asshole: I want a list of names of anyone who even tries to get at you.
Zoey: So you can beat up a bunch of high school kids?
Resident Asshole: Damn straight. It’ll give me a chance to let off some steam.
Zoey: I know a way you can let off a little steam. Though I can guarantee it’s going to get you all kinds of worked up first.
Resident Asshole: Don’t fucking tempt me, Zo.
Zoey: Go and learn some smart people shit. I have a school to dominate.
I grin to myself, picturing the way he would be rolling his eyes and typing out a million different responses before deleting them all. He knows damn well I’m screwing with him. I have absolutely no intention of trying to dominate this school. What’s the point? It’s not like I’ll be spending much more time here. My only goal is to make it through the day and hand in a few of the assignments I’ve managed to get through over the past few weeks.
“Well, well,” I hear Hope saying from behind me. “Look who decided to show up.”
A stupid grin stretches across my face as she steps into my side, trying to be discreet in the way she takes my bag off my shoulder and slips her arm through mine. To anyone else, it looks as innocent as two girls walking arm in arm, but I see it for what it is—offering me a crutch if I need her.
“I figured I hadn’t endured enough torture, so why not add a little more by coming to school?”
“Not gonna lie,” Hope says. “When I read your text this morning, I thought maybe you’d fallen and bumped your head. No one voluntarily goes to school, especially when they’ve already been given the choice to complete their schooling from the comfort of their own bed.”
“I know,” I say with a heavy sigh as we make our way through the gates of East View High. “Do you think anyone knows?”
“Nah, no way,” she says, pausing to find her phone when a text comes through. “They would have bombarded me with questions if they had even an inkling about why you’ve been away. Though, I can’t guarantee the teachers aren’t going to give it away. I think your mom might have mentioned that I know because they’ve been giving me weird looks lately, and I know they’re just dying to ask me how you’re doing.”
“Great,” I mutter to myself as she checks her phone. “That’s exactly what I need.”
Hope barks an unladylike laugh before shoving her phone toward me. “Your bodyguard is coming for me if you have a bad day.”
“Huh?” I grunt, taking her phone and grinning like an idiot as I read over her latest text.
Zoey’s Douche Canoe Boyfriend: Watch her like a fucking hawk.
“Really?” I laugh. “Zoey’s douche canoe boyfriend?”
“What?” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “He forced me to add his number to my phone right after we got high in the park. Personally, I think it suits him perfectly, but just so you know, next time we smoke a joint, we’re hotboxing his car.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “Do I even want to know what that means?”
“Oh, my sweet little innocent child,” she says, looping her arm back through mine. “Just imagine all the fun-tastic ways I could corrupt you.”
We make our way inside, and I find myself discreetly watching the people around me, making sure there are no lingering eyes filled with pity. Realizing that Hope is right, and my secret is safe, I let out a relieved sigh and find my way to my locker.
“Miss James.”
Ah, shit.
I turn and plaster a smile across my face as I find Principal Daniels creeping in beside me, practically radiating pity.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, indeed,” he says, his gaze shifting to Hope over my shoulder. “I, uh . . . just wanted to welcome you back. I wasn’t expecting to see you roaming around the halls quite so soon.”
“Thank you,” I say, appreciating how he’s being a shitload more discreet than Hope is. “I hope that’s okay. I know my teachers have been putting a lot of effort into offering my classes online, but I’m going a little crazy at home and thought I could use a change.”
“Of course,” he says. “You’re always welcome here. However, I take it that means you’re feeling much better?”
My gaze falls away, a heaviness resting on my chest. “I, um . . . no. I’m not.”
“I see,” he says with a nod before letting out a heavy breath, clearly understanding that my treatments haven’t worked.
“I’ll be going in for another round just after New Year’s.”
“Another few months, I take it?”
I press my lips into a hard line, hoping he can’t see the fear in my eyes that appears every time the topic of my second round of chemo is brought up. “Yes, sir.”