Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 178117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 891(@200wpm)___ 712(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 891(@200wpm)___ 712(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Hurrying through the hallways, I pass people so quickly I almost bump into them, and I apologize profusely as I run to the room I’m supposed to be in.
However, the hallway is blocked off right where I need to be.
I peer over the students gathered around.
One guy throws books at another guy while that one simply laughs and shrugs. But the first one doesn’t quit and suddenly lunges at the guy. The whole crowd erupts into gasps and laughter, egging them on as they begin to throw punches at each other, gripping hair and tearing clothing into shreds.
Suddenly, behind the ruckus, a familiar bunch emerges.
The three boys who put my nerves on edge.
Dylan, Alistair … and Felix.
An air of darkness follows them wherever they go, like a cloud of rain in the dusk.
As they walk down the hall, Dylan casually throws a lighter into the air and continuously catches it while Alistair throws his backpack over his shoulder. But Felix keeps his hands tightly secured in his pockets, his white shirt barely able to cover his bulging pecs and biceps.
They’re headed straight toward the fight with no intention of stopping anytime soon.
And even though half the crowd begins to disperse as they come closer and closer, the fighting doesn’t seem to stop … nor do the boys.
As Felix passes the two fighting, one of them bumps into him, and he punches him sideways so hard into the wall he slumps down to the ground, groaning loudly.
Felix doesn’t even break out into a sweat and tucks his hands right back into his pocket.
Everyone in the hallway has gone quiet as if collective terror is infecting everyone while they all step aside to make room for the boys walking in our direction.
Except me.
I stand still in the middle of the hallway until Felix is right in front of me.
Still, I don’t move.
He tilts his head at me, the muscles in his neck straining as his nose twitches. Up close, his features, like his square jaw and pronounced cheekbones, become really defined, but that chilling stare gets me the most. Half-mast eyes, white underneath his pupils, like nothing could ever fucking bother him … until now.
“Move.”
In his gruff voice, that one word could make anyone’s skin erupt into goose bumps.
But not me.
I tilt my head the same way he did.
His eye begins to twitch.
Seconds tick by like minutes while I can practically feel people’s gazes boring holes into my back. But I don’t care. I’ve lived with stares and laughter my whole life, so I’m not afraid of bullies anymore. No one can hurt me if I don’t let them.
And especially not guys like them.
Dylan frowns at me and smirks. “Might wanna listen to him.”
I ignore him and keep my gaze on Felix, who refuses to look away, just like me.
He’s much taller than I am, and he physically has to bend over to get on my level. Too close for comfort as he leans in to stare at me.
“I said move.”
No wonder my sister wrote about him in her diary.
I lick my lips and say, “Make me.”
His nostrils flare. He leans in even closer until he’s beside my face and breathing into my neck, and he whispers, “Don’t tempt me to twist your fucking nipples because I will do it in front of everyone here… Penelope.”
My eyes widen as his flicking fingers inch upward, close enough to push through on his threat.
But that’s not what frightens me the most.
My feet instinctively step away to create distance between us as my veins run icy cold.
His fingers are still in the correct position. The left side of his lip creeps up momentarily, only to sink right back into that deadly, emotionless expression he wears.
His hands lower, and he shoves me farther out of the way, with his buddies following suit as they saunter down the hallway like they own the place.
And all I can do is stare at these killer boys because …
How does he know my name?
FELIX
Penelope, Penelope …
That name has such a nice ring to it.
Nice enough to taint.
Nice enough to corrupt.
My nostrils flare. If she hadn’t stepped aside, I would’ve latched onto those perky nipples peaking through that small black top and twisted them in front of everyone until she screamed my name.
A filthy smirk forms on my lips, but it quickly vanishes when I remember who she is.
She’s not supposed to be here.
Pen.
My fingers clutch around the one I’m holding, almost snapping it in two. Not much is worse than having to sit through an economics class, listening to a teacher blab on about stuff I don’t fucking care about.
With the exception of one thing.
That girl sitting there in the row below me.
How many classes do we share?
One is already too many.
Her eyes fixate on the man in front of the screen, and I have to admit, she’s putting up an amazing front by pretending she doesn’t care. But I know she can feel my eyes penetrate her skull.