Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
My eyes sting at that realization. I like Wesley, but he has no idea who I really am. I doubt that he would like me if he did.
As I leave his apartment, I stop at the top of the steps on the sidewalk and look both ways. I’m not far from the train, so instead of getting a cab like I planned on doing, I make my way toward the subway station at the end of the block. I swipe my MetroCard, then take the stairs down into the mostly empty platform.
Since it’s Saturday, I know it might be a while before my train arrives. I take a seat on one of the benches lining the wall, then dig through my bag for my phone and come up empty-handed. I close my eyes and grit my teeth.
I know I had my phone when I was with Wesley because I sent a text to Libby to let her know not to worry about me. I typed that message in Wesley’s bed while he tried to distract me with his mouth and hands, something he succeeded in doing two seconds after I pressed “Send.”
Groaning, I drop my face to my hands. I left it back at his place.
“Now what?” I ask myself aloud.
I can’t go back and knock on his door. I would look like a complete idiot if I did that.
What would I say? “Hey! I just snuck out of your bed and apartment, but I came back because I think I left my phone behind. Can I come in and search for it?”
“Google is the answer.” Pulling my hands away from my face, I sit back and look at the man standing in front of me. His white hair is wild and sticking out in every direction, his face is pale, and his clothes are dirty and torn. “Google is always the answer. Follow Google.”
He twists his neck back and forth as he gets closer to where I’m sitting. Seeing the way his eyes are dilated and the pulse in his neck is thumping away, I know he’s high. Meaning he’s unstable. My dad has always told me never to show fear, never to allow anyone to think they can intimidate me. That has always stuck with me. I raise my chin, and he stops moving, but I don’t relax. I know better than to let my guard down. Sliding my hand into the pocket of my coat, I wrap my fingers tightly around my can of mace and stand up.
He doesn’t move, but his eyes stay locked on me as I slowly back away from him down the platform toward a young couple who is making out and an older gentleman who is reading the paper. Hearing the sound of the train rushing through the tunnel, I sigh in relief when I see that it’s mine. As soon as the train stops and the doors open, I get into a crowded car and take a seat across from the doors. I watch them shut as the train pulls away.
A flash of black catches my attention, and I turn my head. My eyes widen when I see Wesley. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweats, a black hoodie, and sneakers—and he’s running down the platform after my train. I stand without thinking, and his disappointed eyes meet mine through the window right before he disappears out of sight as we head into the tunnel.
Taking my seat again, I close my eyes, lean my head back, and tuck my purse in front of my stomach. I hold it there tightly, trying to stop a wave of nausea.
He came after me.
I don’t know how he knew I would be getting on the train, but he did.
He came after me. Or at least I think he did.
I furrow my brow, then feel my heart plummet when I realize he probably found my phone and was just trying to catch me so he could return it. Opening my eyes again, I take a deep breath. I need to figure out how to get my phone from him. It will be more awkward than waking up with him, but I can’t afford to buy a new one.
As soon as I reach my stop, I head up the steps out of the station and then walk the three blocks to my place. Libby and I share a one-bedroom apartment on the second floor of a three-family house. The house is a traditional New York City brownstone, with a wide stoop in the front. In the summer, I sit there and watch the kids in the neighborhood play as I drink my coffee in the mornings.
I got the apartment when I moved to New York. It was the only thing I ever had that was just mine, the first thing I didn’t have to share with my sisters. Well, until Fawn came to the city to go to college. Libby joined us not long after that. Thankfully, Fawn no longer lives with us. I love my sisters, but the three of us sharing the small space led to a lot of fights.