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)
“There was a bonfire,” I reply.
It’s not a lie. But also not the full truth.
She swallows, visibly shaken. I must look like a serial killer’s escaped victim.
Maybe it’s not even that far from the truth.
“I’m fine,” I say, adding a gentle smile. “Don’t worry about me.”
I try to pass by her, but she blocks my way. “No way. This ain’t right, Pen. Whatever you’re going through, you can’t do it by yourself.” She pauses. “I’m your friend. Let me help.”
Man, that just fucking shatters me.
I know she’s my friend.
I want her to be my friend, and I want to confide in her so desperately that I have to physically force my lips to stay shut.
I can’t fucking involve her in fucking murder.
“I can’t,” I say through gritted teeth. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“So it’s something real bad,” she says. “I knew it. It’s those boys, isn’t it?”
I shake my head. “This wasn’t them. I promise.”
She frowns. “But they’re involving you in some crazy shit, aren’t they?”
I sigh. “Look … just believe me when I say, it’s best if you don’t get involved.”
I head into the shower and lock the door behind me before she tries to convince me again to tell her all about what I did tonight.
But I’d rather die than have another innocent soul involved in all this darkness and all this depravity.
I look at myself in the mirror, at the blood staining my skin. A mark of honor.
I straighten my back and lift my shoulders, breathing out a sigh of relief.
One down.
Plenty more to go.
But I will hunt them down one by one until all of those fuckers from her diary are burned alive.
Just as that fucker Josh.
Dylan was right.
He got what he deserved.
My dreams are riddled with blood, sex mingling with violence, a twisted and volatile combination. My sleep is restless, and the moment I wake up, I’m drenched in sweat.
I sit up straight in bed and look around, but Kayla’s already gone. I stare at the window, reminding myself I’m awake. But what happened weren’t dreams or nightmares, they were reality.
Suddenly, I’m pulled from my thoughts as my phone buzzes.
Crystal: Are you coming? It’s time for our shared class, but you’re not here?
My eyes widen.
Shit. Did I forget because of everything that happened?
I scramble to get my schedule off the floor, and fuck me, she’s right. It starts in two minutes.
I jump up from my bed and throw on some proper clothes. A black hoodie and a pair of gray leggings. Inconspicuous, just as I intend to be when I walk through that school.
I run out the door and rush down the stairs.
“There she goes again,” someone jokes from the kitchen, but I pay no attention to it.
I know I’m often late. I don’t mean to be, but I guess it’s what happens when you’re busy trying to find your sister’s bullies while simultaneously trying to juggle three horny sicko boys.
I head straight for the main building and bolt inside, then pretend I was walking slowly even though everyone can see me breathing like a crazy person.
“Pen! Here!” Crystal waves from across the hall.
I wave back and smile, but the smile on my face immediately dissipates when I spot someone familiar with a bandage wrapped around his hand, a plastic boot on his leg, and a cane in his hand walk straight toward her.
My stomach drops into my shoes.
He’s already back at school?
How? Why?
I would’ve expected him to stay away for a long time, but now he’s here in the flesh.
But the worst part is that he’s staring right at me with deadly fire in his eyes.
Does he know we killed his Phantom friend?
I swallow.
Too late to turn back now and pretend I was never here.
Sweat drops form on my back as I approach them.
She’s talking to him like she already knows him, and it surprises me.
“Hey Pen, how are you? I haven’t seen you in days,” Crystal says. “You’re barely on time for class.”
“Yeah, Pen … where’ve you been?” Nathan tilts his head.
I leer up at him from underneath my hoodie. “I could ask you the same thing, Nathan.”
“Hospital,” he says, and he holds up his bandaged hand. “Got a gnarly wound that needed sutures along with a fracture.”
“What happened?” Crystal asks.
Adrenaline surges through my veins.
Fuck, and here I was thinking the basement was the worst part.
Wrong.
It’s the aftermath.
What’s he going to say?
How long will it take until everything we did will come to light?
Will Crystal and Kayla hate me?
My body buzzes with anxiety.
“Oh man, I hope it doesn’t hurt too much,” Crystal says. “How did that even happen?”
Nathan homes in on me. “I got into a bad fight at a party. Some fuckers tried to accuse me of something.”
Is he intentionally insinuating he wasn’t the one who put that fucking note underneath my door?