Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Okay,” I laugh.
The bell rings as a few more people brush past me into the room.
“Shit,” she mumbles.
“Need a pass?” He appears in the door, handing Gracie the blue piece of paper.
“Thanks,” She smiles at him before giving me another look.
“See you later,” I wave.
Lab moves slowly, and things are weird with Chloe. She talks to Kyle most of the time, leaving me out. I don’t feel left out, I just am. We have nothing in common anymore, and that’s the reality of it.
Ashley and Chloe sit next to me in chemistry, he did it that way on purpose when he switched our assigned seats a few weeks ago, but as I listen to their conversation I’m just reminded how far apart we’ve grown.
They’re whispering about seeing A Walk To Remember this weekend, on how original it seems. I’m not invited, and I don’t blame them. Every time they have lately I just turn them down. I want to tell them the movie is based on a book, but if they want to get into Nicolas Sparks they should start with The Notebook because it’s far superior. I don’t, because they’d just look at me like I had two heads.
But with him I could.
With him I could talk about anything, debate about anything.
I look up at him as he writes on the overhead projection, going on about acids and bases. He meets my gaze before quickly looking away, a hint of his smirk on his lips.
Public speaking has turned into one big study hall. Everyone’s chatting away and Ms. Martin doesn’t seem to care. Hannah and Nick are talking, and just like Chloe and Ashley, and all my other friends and acquaintances, we’ve become distant.
I jot down some ideas down for my English essay before taking out my math textbook and starting on my homework.
When the bell rings, I run to my locker quickly before heading to the basement and finding Mrs. Stalling. I ask her a question about the homework I was doing, amazed that I may finally be getting it, until I’m on the next question, then I realize I don’t.
I walk into his classroom. There are about five other people there, either making up a test or getting extra help; of course Madison is one of them.
“Luci,” he’s surprised to see me here so early, but I had nothing else to do and didn’t want to stay with Mrs. Stalling. I take my seat in the back as he continues helping another student, getting out my math book and finishing what I started in public speaking.
I hear his feet against the floor as he paces from one student to the other, answering questions, not minding the low murmurs. I feel him next to me before I see him.
“That’s wrong,” he whispers. I look up at him questioningly, watching as he studies my paper before squatting, his spicy scent rushing up my nose, a sweet citrus smell. “That’s not rational because the denominator isn’t polynomial.”
I gape at him, my chemistry teacher who is suddenly helping me with my math homework. “Both the numerator and the denominator need to me polynomial for it to be considered a rational function,” he continues. “Like this one here,” he points.
“But what about-”
“The coefficients of the polynomial’s don’t need to be rational numbers in order for it to still be a rational function. You’re confusing it.”
Shit. And my chemistry teacher explains it better than my actual pre-calc teacher does.
“God, do you know everything?”
“I know a little bit about a lot of things,” he laughs and I roll my eyes.
“You’re so annoying,” I huff.
He winks before standing up and walking away.
I finish in no time, anxious for 3:10 to roll around so we can get to his office, and when it does, his mouth is on mine before the door fully clicks shut. It feels like its been forever since we kissed this morning, and I’m ashamed to admit that I want to feel him inside me again.
I reach my hand between us and give him a squeeze. He moves his mouth away from mine, closing his eyes.
“I can’t stop with you,” he reveals, like its some big secret he can’t comprehend.
“I don’t want you to,” I barely get my words out before he’s lifting me. We fall against the nearest hard surface, and I flinch as our scrabble pieces fall to the floor.
“Our game!” I cry out.
“We’ll start a new one,” he puts me down and starts undoing his pants, a playful gleam in his eye. “I was going to win anyway.”
I laugh as he frees himself, his engorged, well-hung penis standing straight ahead. I grab onto it as he closes his eyes and whispers in my ear.
“Get naked.”
He steps back and watches as I strip.
“Your turn,” I smile, crossing my arms over my bare chest. He lets his pants and briefs fall to the ground before unzipping his sweater, already having nothing underneath, his ruined shirt from this morning already discarded.