Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Bullshit. Maybe I buy the friendship part, but there’s no way a guy like that would ever be with somebody like you.” Ainsley gains some confidence, her tone hardening. “If he fucked you yesterday, it was out of pity. Throwing a bone to the crazy psycho. He was probably worried you’d commit suicide if he rejected you.”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.” I eye her in amusement. “Is there anything else you want, Ainsley? Because I’d like to get to class.”
She shoots me a furious look. “Just stay away from him. And stay away from me.”
“I will gladly do the latter,” I assure her.
Unfortunately, it’s difficult to stick to that when I literally sit behind her and Bree in history class. And I’m almost disappointed when Ainsley ignores me the entire time. Now that I’ve beefed up my backbone, I’m enjoying cutting her down. Sadly, she spends all of class staring straight ahead with her shoulders rigid.
Since they’re only two feet from me, I can’t help but eavesdrop on their conversation. They’re discussing the Snow Ball, which is being held at Ballard next month. Ainsley’s bitching about how unfair it is that only Ballard students are eligible for Snow Queen.
“So unfair. You totally would’ve won,” assures Bree, forever the suck-up.
“Doubt it,” Ainsley says modestly, and I roll my eyes at her back. “It’ll be a senior, obviously. Mila Whitlock. Or maybe Amy Reid. But Amy’s boyfriend can’t be king because he’s at Sandover.”
“Oh. My. God. Did I not tell you? He’s not her boyfriend anymore,” Bree gossips. “Gray says they broke up.”
“No way. Silas Hazelton is on the market again?”
I can’t stop a snort.
Spine stiff as a rod, Ainsley turns in her chair. “What?” she snaps.
“Nothing. It’s just adorable, the high value you assign yourself. First Lawson, now Silas… You really think you have a shot with these guys, huh?”
Her face turns purple with anger, but before she can retort, Sister Katherine shushes us and orders everyone to focus on their assignments.
In second period, I slide into my seat next to Jazmine, who grills me for details about my escapade with Lawson. We chat until Sister Mary Alice marches by with her ruler and waves it around in a threatening manner. I swear this woman gets off on corporal punishment. She must have been a bloodthirsty prison guard in another life.
Later, after the lunch bell rings, I head to my locker to find my sister waiting for me. Sloane runs a hand through her long, dark hair and gives me a guarded look. After last night, we’re still a bit cautious around each other. This morning at breakfast, she kept watching me like she was anticipating a sneak attack at any second.
“What is it?” I ask her.
“Dad’s waiting for you outside.”
My jaw falls open. “I’m sorry, what?”
“He tried texting you, but your phone’s off—”
“Yeah, because I was in class,” I interrupt irritably. “Why the hell is he here?”
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” She backs away, shrugging. “All he said was he’s waiting for you outside.”
Crap.
It is never a good sign when a parent shows up at your school in the middle of the day. At least I know it’s not an emergency, otherwise he would have included Sloane in whatever this is.
When I walk outside and see Dad’s face, my suspicions grow exponentially. He’s leaning against the passenger door of his black SUV, sporting his tweed blazer and a stern, no-nonsense expression that tells me he means business.
I reach the bottom of the steps and approach him. “What’s this about?” I say in lieu of greeting.
He doesn’t miss that. “Hello to you too, sweetheart.” Opening the car door for me, he adds, “We have an appointment.”
I’m half a second from spinning on my heel and running into the school when I realize it would serve no purpose. Dad would just call the Reverend Mother and she’d probably personally escort me back outside.
So as reluctant as I am, I slide into the passenger seat and buckle up.
He rounds the vehicle and gets behind the wheel, glancing over as he puts the SUV in drive. “Sorry to just show up at lunch, but this was the only slot she had open this week. Otherwise we would’ve had to wait two weeks.”
I frown at him. “Who’s she?”
“Dr. Anthony.” Like a coward, he stares straight ahead, too afraid to meet my murderous eyes.
“Are you kidding me? This is beyond messed up, Dad. Would you ever do something like this to Sloane?”
“What do you mean?” He continues to avoid my gaze.
“You know exactly what I mean. If you and Sloane got into a fight, would you pull her out of school the next day and take her to a fucking psychiatrist?”
“Language, young lady.”
I ignore the reprimand. “It’s fine, Dad, you can avoid the question. We both know the answer is no. No, you wouldn’t do that. Because Sloane is the strong one, right?” Bitterness burns a path up my throat. “She doesn’t need a professional to poke around in her brain and try to solve why she would possibly get annoyed when her father loses his shit because she’s a few hours late after school.”