Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 91079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
My head jerks up from my crumb-covered pillow to find my Mom smiling down at me. All the anger and envy I’d built up toward Vivian and her ability to get Edward to chase her vanishes as a deep sadness sweeps over me. Tears flood my eyes and a choked sob escapes as I struggle to untangle my body from the covers and throw myself into my mother’s arms.
“What’s got you so upset, sweet girl?” I cry harder at the sound of her voice. It’s controlled. Even. Soothing and soft, yet strong enough to penetrate my cluttered thoughts. She smells like cookies and apples and everything wonderful.
She smells like Mom.
“Jake wants casual and I want more and I left thinking he’d come for me and he hasn’t.”
I swear I hear her chuckle but when I pull back, I only see sympathy on her face. “Did you tell him how you felt?”
I just stare at her.
She sighs. Smiles. Smooths my hair out of my face and dusts the crumbs from my shirt. “Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll fry you something.”
“I’m not hungry. I already filled up on Funyuns and beef jerky.” I poke my lip out on a pout.
“And you smell like Funyuns and beef jerky. Which is why I suggested the shower.”
Emily, who has been standing silent behind my mother, nods emphatically. She even goes so far as to scrunch her cute little button nose up and curl her lip in disgust.
I’m surprised Emily and Mom aren’t happier that I’m back. We all know they couldn’t make it without me. Who would Mom cook for? Who would make Emily laugh when all she’s done lately is cry? They should be doing everything in their power to make me hate Jake—cursing him. Prank calling him. Threatening his life on social media. Or at the very least, starting a vicious rumor.
I think I need to find new people to comfort me. These two are only interested in pointing out my flaws. I mean, every girl with a broken heart deserves to fall apart. Especially the one who holds these two together. Why can’t they just let me stink for a while?
“Fine. I’ll shower.”
“There’s my girl,” Mom says at the same moment Emily mutters, “Thank God.”
I give her the evil eye as I pass. And just because she looks perfect and maintained good hygiene during her breakup, I can’t refrain from breathing my hot, onion-jerky breath in her face.
Instead of a shower, I took a bubble bath. But that sucked because all it did was remind me of Jake.
So I cried.
When I got out, I put on one of Jake’s shirts and a pair of his underwear—yes, I stole a pair of his underwear. But that sucked because they smelled like Jake and reminded me that he wasn’t here.
So I cried.
I found my Mom and Emily in the kitchen. Laughing. Frying dill pickles. Dressed in matching aprons. Flour on their noses and cheeks. Like a happy fucking family. And it made me realize that maybe I wasn’t needed around here as much as I thought. I felt like a third wheel in my own mother’s home. And that made my walking out on Jake an even harder pill to swallow.
So I cried.
Ugly cried.
That finally got me some attention and soon I had my head in Mom’s lap and my feet in Emily’s while we sat on the couch and watched Jeopardy and ate pickles and pie and didn’t get a single question right.
“How we doin’?” Mom asks, her voice low as she rubs my hair.
Fresh tears form in my eyes. “I think I made a mistake.” The truth of those words hit me dead in my chest. My stomach twists. Heart falls to my knees. “I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, honey.”
I twist my body to face her. “Yes I am. He was so perfect, Mom. Sweet and kind and funny and good in bed—”
“And rich,” Emily adds.
I nod. “And rich. Like, Christian Grey rich.”
Mom chooses to ignore the shallow rich comment. “So why did you leave?”
“Because I overheard him tell his friend that we were just casual. And that it was perfect. And that he didn’t want more.”
“Did you talk to him about it?”
“No.” I drop my eyes. “I just left.”
“Penelope Lane…you sound like the typical heroine.”
“I know!” I cry, throwing my hand over my eyes. “What do I do now? I can’t just call him or go back. That would be weird. And it would mess up my dream for him to do a That Guy move and miss me so much he comes to get me.”
Knowing how much I need this, everyone agrees. Even though I can see their need to tell me I’m being stupid in their eyes.
Mom stands and pulls me from the couch. “You and Emily go out. Have a few drinks and see if you can’t get your mind off of him.”