Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
Maybe I shouldn’t have gone about it this way. Maybe I should have gone to Hunter and appealed to him and convinced him to come forward instead of outing him like this, but once I told my mom, I lost control of the situation.
Even if he’s mad at me, even if he hates me for it, I can’t just stand by and allow this to keep happening to him. The integrity of an unbroken promise won’t be sufficient solace if next time Dennis attacks Hunter, I have to go to his funeral.
I know we’re doing the right thing, but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels wretched, and I’m sad all the time.
On Wednesday, I’m called down to the principal’s office during class.
Mom is there with the guidance counselor and the principal. They ask me about Hunter, even though I’m sure my mom has already told them everything. I guess they want to really make sure before they accuse the richest woman in town of child endangerment.
Because that’s what happens next. I don’t hear from Hunter, but I hear it from my mom.
The school obviously found out Hunter wasn’t really out of town, but he still doesn’t come to school all week. On Friday after school, I send him a text to see if he’s okay.
“You’re dead to me,” he texts back.
My heart sinks and my stomach knots up. I swallow past a lump in my throat and text him back. “I’m so sorry, Hunter. I had to tell someone. I was afraid for you.”
He doesn’t respond.
___
The following Monday, Hunter is back at school. I find out pretty immediately from overhearing other people whispering about it.
There are so many rumors flying around about the week he was out.
Some people have it right. Some have it completely wrong. There’s even a crazy one flying around that his father—some big shot from Europe—is in town and that’s why Hunter wasn’t in school last week.
The truthful version of the controversy surrounding Hunter could have made him seem more human, but somehow it has morphed into a complete fiction that has only made him seem even cooler than he already was.
In history class, I overhear the girls at the desks in front of me gossiping about it.
“I heard Hunter’s dad is some exiled Italian royal who married this French actress and they live in a chateau just outside Paris. He cheated on her with Hunter’s mom back when she was a model.”
“Wait. Like, actual royalty?” the other girl exclaims, aghast.
The first girl nods. “I think his dad was a king or a prince—I don’t remember exactly what Ciera said. Hunter’s dad is totally Italian royalty though, that’s the gist,” one of the girls in my history class is gushing while we wait for the bell to ring.
“Does that make Hunter a prince?” her friend asks, grinning.
The first girl sighs like she can’t even stand it. “Ugh, he’s so hot. I mean, he already was, but like… wow.”
Disgusted, I roll my eyes and flip open my textbook. I want to tell them both they should pay a lot more attention in this class because the Italians voted the monarchy out in the 1940’s—there is no Italian royal family. I suppose it’s possible Hunter’s dad descends from the last king of Italy, but it’s most likely just nonsensical fodder for the gossip mill. Since Hunter’s dad exists only in our imaginations, he can be as impressive as anyone can imagine.
Of course I know Hunter doesn’t even have a relationship with his dad, so he’s definitely not in town for a visit.
I don’t get to see Hunter until lunchtime. Since he told me I was dead to him and we never even interacted at lunch when he didn’t hate me, I know it’s a risky move to approach him, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
I sent him more apology texts trying to get him to talk to me after the one he responded to, but he didn’t respond to any of them. I don’t think he blocked my number because they seemed to keep going through, he just didn’t answer. I even tried calling to talk to him once, but he didn’t pick up.
I get it if he doesn’t want to talk to me right now, but I hope he’ll forgive me once the dust settles. In the meantime, I just want to make sure he’s okay.
I catch his eye as I approach and he does a double take, staring at me like he can’t believe my nerve.
His eye looks a lot better now. His lip is pretty much healed, but the wound on his head still looks bad. I wonder if it will become a scar.
I tear my attention from his hairline and meet his brown-eyed gaze. I can’t decide if he looks more amused that I’m approaching him in public, or… something else. There’s an undercurrent of malice I’m unaccustomed to, and it sets my nerves on edge.