Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
This account is private.
What the fuck? Her profile picture used to be one of us from prom night. Now, it’s her face turned to the side, chin up like she’s looking at the sky but most of her features hidden by her hair or obscured by some filter. But I know my girl. It’s definitely her.
Did she lock down her account to hide from me? Or because people who were watching the show harassed her?
I check my own account. Diane had “curated” it when I first arrived at the house. As far as I can tell, all that meant is she posted a series of obnoxious shirtless thirst traps of me from different events at the house. It worked, though. Each one has thousands of likes and comments. I’m not even going to bother reading all that shit. How fucking embarrassing.
Any photos I’d posted before the show Diane must have set to private. That’s probably for the best. My bio still says “in a relationship.” Gee, surprised Diane didn’t change that too while she was busy fucking up my life. I navigate my way through the settings and change my password. Not that it probably matters. Those fucks had my phone for so long, they could’ve put God only knows what spyware on it. Maybe I should have Remy take me to get a new phone while we’re out.
“Griffin,” a nurse calls out.
It takes a second to realize she means me. Almost no one ever calls me that. I stand and shove my phone in my pocket.
I hope this isn’t gonna take all day.
After the appointment, Remy talks me into coming back to the house with him for dinner. He seemed so annoyed with me earlier, I should probably be more cautious.
We’re sitting at the dining room table finishing plates of lasagna when I sit back and take my phone out of my pocket. I check it quickly. Still nothing from Molly.
I clear my throat. “You know, I’ve tried calling Molly and sending texts.” I hold up my phone. “She must’ve blocked me. None of my texts to her have gone through.”
Remy’s eyes narrow and the corner of his mouth curls up in a pissed-off sneer. “You’re damn right she blocked you, motherfucker. She won’t even talk about you. She definitely doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“Remy, you gotta—”
“I don’t gotta do shit.” He aims a blistering glare my way. “I warned you what would happen if you hurt her.” He runs his disgusted gaze over me. “Kicking your ass when you’re in this condition doesn’t seem fair. But keep pushing me, and I’ll reconsider.”
“Why’d you want me to come over so bad, then?”
He takes a long, slow breath and curls his hands into fists on the table. “You’ve been my best friend…like my brother for a long time. Even though I want to choke the living daylights out of you,” the harsh edge in his voice fades, “I’m also worried about you.”
Doesn’t that make me feel guilty as fuck. “I’m all right.”
“We need some ground rules.”
I already sense what he’s going to say, but I still ask, “Such as?”
“No more updates on my sister. If you two work things out, great. If not—”
“Wait a second.” I lean forward. “Not working things out isn’t an option, Remy. I love her.”
“Well, you have a piss-poor way of showing it, Griff.”
“I—”
He holds up his hand, cutting me off. “I won’t keep going in circles about this with you.”
“Will you at least ask her to unblock me?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “You’re resourceful. If you really want to talk to her, you’ll figure it out.”
He’s right to a certain extent. I can’t ask him to play mediator between Molly and me. I’ll have to repair the wreckage I caused all by myself.
Still, I have to know. “Just tell me one thing—is she happy at school? Is she adjusting well?”
The corner of his mouth twitches but I can’t tell if it’s amusement from thinking about Molly or annoyance at my question. “Yeah,” he answers with a heavy sigh. “I think so. The roommate thing has been an adjustment, but she fixed her schedule so all of her classes start after ten a.m. She’s pretty excited about that.”
I chuckle. Sounds like Molly. And that’s all I’m going to ask him about school. Those are stories I want to hear from Molly, not Remy.
“She did okay…working all those hours over the summer?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He answers slow, like he’s not happy about dipping into this conversation with me. “She’s a hard worker. Helped me out at the bar quite a bit, honestly. I probably should’ve let her work with me sooner.”
“Holy shit. I hope you told her that.”
His lips quirk. “I might have said it once or twice.”
“Wish I’d witnessed that conversation.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, the full force of them rams into me with painful clarity. I missed so much time with my friends. The people I love and consider my family. I allowed some show biz weasels to cut off all contact with the only people who have ever mattered to me. It’s not even like I was away doing something noble like serving my country. I did it for a cheesy, third-rate reality television show. Disgust blows through me like a tornado.