Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
Her gaze shifts away awkwardly, but then she moves closer to the table to tell me, “Well, you know, sometimes it works better to make him chase you a little bit. You don’t have to speed up to meet his pace. Make him slow down to meet yours. Show him you’re a girl worth waiting for.”
I don’t bother telling her that ship has already sailed, or that Carter doesn’t really switch speeds to accommodate other people. I’m not worried about making her dislike him—given who he is, I know it would take a lot—but it would be pointless. At best, it would make her stop asking questions and awkwardly leave the room. At worst, it would make her worry that I’m not in a safe relationship.
Actually, maybe the “at worst” is that she would tell me to suck it up because I’ve landed a whale, and then I would be annoyed at her for giving me even more bad advice than she already has.
No good can come of it, that’s the point.
“I’ve got it under control,” I say instead, flashing her a brief smile before turning my attention back to my breakfast.
Although there was nothing normal about my weekend, it finally feels like things are getting back to normal at school. There is no “Zoey the ho” greeting waiting for me today as I head for the school’s entrance doors. A couple of jocks are lingering around the stone wall where Carter sometimes holds court, but he’s not there to command them. Even so, when they notice me, rather than taunts, I get a nod of acknowledgement and a friendly, rhetorical “what’s up?”
My, how the tides have changed. I walk through the halls without being obviously stared at, glared at, or talked about. When I open my locker, there is no vandalism. It’s starting to feel just a little too good.
Then I hear, “Hey, whore.”
My shoulders sag with displeasure at the ruination of this perfect arrival. I finish stuffing the books I don’t need yet into my locker, then I close the metal door and meet the blue-eyed gaze of Erika Martin.
“Hey, friend,” I offer back.
Erika smiles, her eyes twinkling. Why is she so happy? “Did you kick a puppy this morning?” I inquire. “You seem awfully cheerful.”
“A whole litter. Ugly little things.”
I crack a smile. “Not quite Dalmatian coat material, huh? Too bad.”
“No new coat for me. There’s a killer shoe sale going on this week, though. That’s pretty good consolation.”
“It is. We should go. I could use a new pair of shoes.”
Erika blinks and looks over at me. “Are you joking? I can’t always tell with you. You have a weird sense of humor.”
Hanging out with Erika is the last thing I would ever choose to do, but I shrug noncommittally. “Hey, if you’d rather be friends than enemies, shoe shopping could be a good first step. We could get iced coffee, maybe grab lunch. There’s really no reason for us to hate each other.”
“Except the fact that we’re fucking the same guy,” she offers.
Sighing with disappointment, I shake my head. “You’re still on that? Seriously? It didn’t work, Erika. Move on.”
“See, that’s the thing. I know a lot of girls would just put up with Carter’s bullshit because he’s Carter. He won’t stop doing it, so you just have to deal if you wanna be with him. But I think you actually believe him. You really believe he changed for you or some shit, and that’s just sad.”
“I don’t care what you think of me, Erika.” Pointing to a random spot across the hall, away from me, I add, “Just judge me from way over there. Honestly, your opinion of me is not my business and I couldn’t be less interested.”
“I’m really not trying to be mean,” she states.
“Just naturally bitchy, huh?” I murmur. I can’t imagine why Carter didn’t want to be with her. She’s such a delight!
“I’ve been there before,” she tells me. “I wasn’t always like this. Carter made me… he changed me, because of the way he acts. I had to compromise a lot to be with him, and it never ends. He just takes and takes and takes. Just when you’ve finally adjusted and you think you’ll break if you bend another inch, he demands it. He’s… He drives me fucking crazy.”
That I can understand. Nodding and glancing over at her, I assure her, “I don’t doubt that at all. That just means he’s not right for you, though. I think Carter isn’t right for the majority of women. He’s a difficult guy. If that isn’t something you enjoy, you should really let him go. Wouldn’t you be happier? Why keep fighting to hang onto someone who literally drives you crazy? You couldn’t have had any peace with him. Were you always worried about other girls?”