Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Mom rotates her head, scanning Thalia’s attire, which comprises of two-inch heels, a skirt that barely covers her private business, and a shirt my dad likes to refer to as a shra—a shirt-bra.
Mom is about to argue, but then Thalia shrugs off her backpack and lifts it in the air. “I’ve got training gear in my backpack.”
“I need to check your bag for drugs,” Mom says matter-of-factly. I’m about to die of humiliation.
Thalia tosses her bag into Mom’s hands, the picture of nonchalance. “Be my guest, Mrs. Followhill.”
She flips the bag upside down and goes through each item meticulously. Rummaging through textbooks, a box of tampons and an array of fruit-flavored ChapStick. Finally, Mom takes a deep breath and nods.
She goes back upstairs, and I reluctantly lead Thalia into the ballet studio.
Thalia closes the door and leans against it, a wicked glint twinkling in her eyes. I don’t actually think she’s evil. Very few people are.
Normally, people don’t finger their ultra-thin moustache and mwahahaha when they see others suffer.
But some people have no boundaries and very little healthy judgment, and I feel like Thalia falls into that category.
“What do you want?” I pick up the bloodied knife and clean it with the hem of my shirt.
Thalia looks around. “First of all, what the heck happened here? Why is there blood on the floor?”
“Aunt Flo’s in town,” I mumble, picking up a paper towel roll I keep here to wipe sweat from the floor and clean it. “I’ll ask again—why are you here?”
Thalia pushes off the door. “Well, because we didn’t practice yesterday like we planned, silly! Why did you leave all of a sudden?”
“You know why I left.” I dump the sullied paper towels into the trash can. The metallic scent of blood tinges the air, prickling my tongue.
“Not everyone’s a brainiac, doll. Spell it out for me.”
“You wanted me to catch you with Lev.”
“How can you catch me with my own boyfriend?” She gasps in shock. I’ve met fantasy books more believable than this girl. “So what if we had a moment? It’s not like we noticed you.”
“Are you still together?” I choke out the question.
She stops a few feet away from me, giving me a once-over. I know I look terrible.
Suddenly, I regret asking her.
Her innocent expression breaks into a delighted, shocked smile, and my heart sinks further. “He hasn’t spoken to you? Oh. Of course we are.” She eats the space between us, gathering me into a hug. “And all thanks to you. Your friendship and your advice helped me so much.”
I’m stiff in her embrace. My heart is pounding like crazy. I want to make this stop.
The truth pours out of my mouth like a gushing wound. “I had sex with him on Saturday.”
Now it’s Thalia’s turn to become a pillar of salt.
“What?” she whispers.
I nod into her hair. “I’m not saying this to hurt you, I swear. But either you’re lying about the fact you’re together or he’s cheating on you. Either way, you deserve the truth.”
She pulls away from me like I’m fire. “I mean, things aren’t perfect, but we’re working on it. Especially now, after what happened.”
“What happened?” My throat turns dry. Her perfume—my perfume—clings to my lips, the bitter taste of it exploding in my mouth.
And I know in this moment that I’m never going to wear it again. It is ruined for me forever.
“He didn’t tell you the good news?” She bats her lashes. “I’m not going to college. I’m joining him wherever he goes. I’ve a feeling he is going to propose.”
The entire world tips over like a bowl of hot oil. The burn scorches through my inner organs, turning everything into ash.
I stumble backward. My back hits the mirror. I glance behind my shoulder.
Look at my face.
Find strength.
And remember who I am.
The words fall out of my mouth on their own accord: “You’re lying.”
That serene grin on her face spreads wider. I’m woozy. “Aww, I know it’s shocking. Totes unexpected! But I mean, all of your families marry young, right?”
Yes. To people they’re in love with. Lev is not in love with Thalia.
Turning around, I pick up my phone from the floor and scroll down to find his name.
“What are you doing?” Panic laces her voice.
“Calling him to ask if you guys are still together.”
“P—put the phone down, you wacko.”
I hit send instead. Screw her. So far I have been easily manipulated because my head is a mess, but one thing is clear to me—Thalia has been playing a game all along.
Thalia pounces on me, ripping my phone from between my fingers. She hurls the device across the room. It hits the opposite mirror, which cracks noisily.
A large chunk of glass collapses to the floor, blanketing my phone. Thalia grabs me by the shoulder and pushes me onto the sea of broken glass.