Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
I was a mess of emotions, and it was uncomfortable.
I took the invitation and read it over.
Her address wasn’t in one of the wealthy areas. “Are you a scholarship kid?” The question came out before I’d realized I was even asking, and I felt bad as soon as her face closed off.
“Uh...” She turned away. “Never mind. I mean—”
“No.” I grabbed her arm. “Sorry. I’m just surprised. It doesn’t matter to me.” I pointed to myself. “Like I give a crap. I’m not popular. I don’t have any friends. So, loser. Me.” I laughed, and it came out forced because now she was looking at me with pity, and that wasn’t my intention at all. “I mean…” Oh boy. I was messing this up.
Making up my mind, I shoved the invitation back at her and rushed off. “I don’t do parties. Sorry.”
Seriously.
What was my issue?
I cursed myself, but wait.
I almost forgot.
What had I been thinking?
I almost missed my favorite part of the day.
Right before swinging into class, I stopped and looked back.
Hearing the commotion in the hallway, I knew it was already happening.
I couldn’t help myself. My stomach went all warm and fluttering, and I moved to lean against the nearest locker. Hugging my book and computer to my chest, I let myself indulge.
Blaise DeVroe had arrived.
BLAISE
“Dude,” Zeke greeted me, his hand in the air as I got out of my G Wagon.
I reached up, and we slapped hands.
“You snuck out this morning?”
“Yeah.” I grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and shut the door. Locking it, we started for school. A few others trailed behind Zeke, falling in line behind us. Brian, Branston, and this time it was Jamie Conway and Oliver Ashlome next to them. The B brothers were useless to me—couldn’t even respond when I asked how they were. Jamie and Oliver actually seemed to have their own minds.
This school, it was something else.
“Had to run home for a change of clothes,” I added as we hit the sidewalk leading up to the doors.
Zeke gave me a cocky smirk. “Daniels sneak out with you?”
I shot him a look.
The guys snickered behind us.
I heard one say, “Dicksy Daniels.”
I stopped.
The other laughed. “She likes those cocks, man. That’s for sure.”
“Shut it.” I tossed a look back.
Brian drew up short at that. “Excuse me?”
I wasn’t having this. Not today. I snapped and went right at him.
He was about to say more shit, give me more attitude, and his arms were on the way up.
I was there before they came even halfway. I fisted my hands in his shirt and shoved him against the wall. There were students around, but they beat it real quick.
I was in his face, grinding my teeth. “Yeah. I said shut the fuck up. Why are you making me say it again?”
Fuck. I wanted to fight. I wanted to fight so badly.
I didn’t care who this asshole was. He could’ve had my non-bio dad’s face, my half-brother’s face. He could have my real dad’s face. I didn’t give two fucks. I just wanted to hurt because I was so sick of everything.
A crowd formed around us.
I didn’t give a fuck about them either.
Crowds formed. It’s what they did.
“Hey, man.” Zeke tried to get between us. “Hey. Hey, brother. Come on.”
Brian looked relieved to have him there.
Nope. It didn’t matter. I was pissed, and I didn’t care who was trying to come to his aid. I was ready to burn the school down.
A deeper growl ripped from me, and I pulled Brian from the wall, only to shove him back even harder. My hands ripped his shirt, and I was still in his face. Hands tried to pull me back, but it was pointless. No one could move me when I didn’t want to be moved.
“You got something else to say to me?”
Brian’s eyes were wide. I saw a flicker of anger before Zeke pushed himself between us once more. Then it was gone. Brian held his hands up, as if surrendering. “Nah, man. I’ll shut it. I didn’t know you were gone on her, that’s all.”
Gone on her? Jesus Christ.
I’d started to let go of him, until those words.
I clocked him in the face and stepped back as he moved over. The force of the hit was enough that he bent over, in serious pain, but I hadn’t hit him hard enough to go down to the floor.
I leaned over and said, “One kick to your knee, another hit to your head, and you’d be down for the count. I don’t owe you any fucking explanation, but I’m getting really tired of the shit you and your stupid-ass brother say about women. Grow the fuck up, dude.”
Yeah, yeah. There could be an argument made about me—how mature was it to throw a punch? But I was tired of this bullshit. I didn’t want to go to Rape School, and those were the dynamics fucking Zeke was putting in place, whether he meant to or not.