Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“What’s your problem?” he demands. “Are you sick?”
“You saw what he did to my car,” I spit out. “You’d be sick too.”
“Poor, spoiled baby. You have a dent in your precious car. I bet the world feels like it’s fucking end—”
Everything goes black.
“Whoa, man, why are you so pale?”
I’m vaguely aware of being manhandled back into my front seat. My clothes are wet and dirty, but all I can worry about is making the world stop spinning.
I close my eyes, willing the episode to pass.
“Hollis? Are you okay?”
I blink my eyes open in confusion to see Aunt Karen standing in front of my open car door. How much time has gone by?
“Aunt Karen?”
“You’re white as a ghost, honey,” she says, reaching in to run her palm over my forehead. “Clammy too. I’m going to run you home. I’ll call Kels—”
“No!” I bark out. “Mom just started her job. Please don’t make her feel like she has to leave to come deal with me.” I let out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t eat anything.”
“Hollis Nathaniel English,” she chides. “You know better than that.”
“Sorry. I just…maybe I can sit here until it passes.”
“I’ll grab you a soda and some crackers. Sit tight.” Then, to Roan who’s hovering nearby, she says, “Please stay with him until I get back. I’ll write you a pass.”
“Happy to help,” he says with false cheer.
“Don’t look so eager to get out of class,” she grumbles.
As soon as she disappears, Roan opens the passenger side door and sits down like we’re best fucking pals. I groan and try to ignore him.
“You look like shit, rat.”
“Fuck off.”
“You dropped this,” he says, handing me my phone with a now cracked screen back. “Your boyfriend has been blowing up your phone.”
I see several missed texts from Lucas, one of which he admits he misses me. Knowing Roan has seen this causes anger to spark inside of me, chasing away the ill feeling.
“Is this the same guy you were kissing in the picture?” he probes, his voice low and demanding. “Or a different one? How many guys do you have exactly?”
I turn my head to look at him. He’s wearing me out. Instead of responding to his stupid questions, I stare at him. Dark shadows beneath his eyes that weren’t there before now stand out, showing me he isn’t the only one having a bad day. It makes me wonder what kept him up so late. Sure as hell wasn’t studying. I don’t know much about the guy, but I can deduce he’s not a studier.
“If you hate school, what do you plan to do after this?” I ask, voicing my question.
It catches him off guard because for a second, he seems scared and unsure. And that’s not right because he’s fucking Roan. A prick who’s quite sure of himself.
“We’re not friends,” he reminds me.
“So?”
“So I’m not giving you my life story.”
“I was just asking for your future.”
Our eyes meet and his amber ones blaze with intensity. It’s a shame he’s such an asshole. He’s hot. Really hot. Distractingly so. I crave to push away the overgrown fallen lock of hair that hangs over one brow that I know is pierced. I want to see the piercing up close and wonder if he’s pierced elsewhere. This guy is a dick, and yet I still want to touch him.
“I want to be a fireman.”
I’m so stunned he responded, all I can do is gape. “For real?”
Anger flashes over his features. “I didn’t say it would fucking happen. You just asked what I wanted. Whatever, man.”
“Don’t be so sensitive,” I grumble back. “It was just a question.”
His body relaxes. “I know this guy Mike. He’s a fireman. Cool as hell. Loves his job.”
Imagining Roan all decked out and sweaty in fireman gear is enough to make me want to faint all over again. Rather than embarrass myself, I close my eyes.
“I used to want to be a doctor.”
“Used to?” His voice is gruff.
“My dad’s a doctor. We’re not speaking anymore. Trying to figure out what I want to do now.”
“You look more like a substitute teacher if you ask me.”
And you look like an angry underwear model.
“No one asked,” I say instead.
Roan’s not so bad when he’s not under the influence of his friends.
“What are you doing after school?” he asks, his voice tight with some sort of hidden emotion.
“Going home.”
“Nope. Pick up Charlotte and bring her to basketball practice. Roux never has anyone to talk to.” He starts to get out of the car as Aunt Karen makes her way toward the parking lot from the building. I grab his arm to stop him.
“I’m not an errand boy.” I huff. “Besides, what would I do?”
“Play ball with us.” He shrugs. “I saw your jersey in the picture. Figured you played.”
“And snooped in my texts,” I grit out. “How did you even get into my phone anyway?”