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)
I do not touch the money. Instead, I take my books and look up at him. “You can’t trick me back into a relationship with you. I’m not that dumb.”
“I’m not trying to trick you back into a relationship,” he tells me, putting the twenty on the desk since I’m not taking it. “In fact, I’ve gotta get to the cafeteria to give my new toy some attention. Thanks for the fuck, though,” he adds, winking at me, then turning and leaving me alone to fume in the empty classroom.
Chapter 42
The weekend passes uneventfully. I work, go to church, and go out for coffee with Grace. When I get to my locker Monday morning, I find a surprise waiting for me—though, not a mean one this time. A small shopping bag with two-toned pink stripes from Victoria’s Secret is in my locker. I look around to make sure no one is glancing my way, then open the bag to find six pairs of panties, all in my size. On top of the pink tissue paper inside is a note in Carter’s handwriting that reads, “To make up for the pair I stole. Wear the blue ones next time you wear that skirt.”
Narrowing my eyes, I toss the note back in the bag. Does that mean he sees my skirt as some kind of sign indicating he can fuck me that day? He can fuck off if he thinks that. Days have passed since our last encounter, weekend days, so I’m sure he brought Blondie over to Cartwright’s for a weekend group hang. I’m sure Brianna was just as welcoming to her as she was to me, and Cartwright didn’t have to keep up, he could just be nice to the straightforward hot blonde on Carter’s arm. The one who is supposed to be there, because she fits in like I never did.
Taking my cell phone out of my purse, I text Carter while I’m mad so I can yell at him. “If you think I dropped the girlfriend title so I could be your occasional booty call, boy, do you have another thing coming. Thanks for the panties, but you’re never going to see them on me.”
Since I can’t very well bring a Victoria’s Secret bag with me, I slam my locker door shut and leave them inside. I’ll just have to try to sneak them out to my car while everyone is at lunch… which will mean lingering in the bathroom until everyone else is already in the cafeteria, which means if Carter wants to accost me, the path will be clear.
I don’t know if the panties were an actual gift or just a way to get me alone again. I suppose I could throw a wrench in his plans—if they are his plans—and wait until I leave for the day to take them, but spending even more time in the school building and waiting for it to clear out sounds terrible and also less reliable. The last thing I need is giving anyone the visual of me hauling a bag from Victoria’s Secret through the halls though.
I won’t be wearing them anytime soon, anyway. Thank the Lord, I finally started my period over the weekend, so there is no Carter clone hiding out in my womb, waiting to do Daddy’s bidding and ruin my whole life. The birth control I started was supposed to start working immediately, so it seems now I’m out of the woods.
I didn’t want to be pregnant so I am relieved, but there is the tiniest corner of my heart that felt a bit sad. Logically and in every sensible way, I know Carter would use a baby to manipulate me right back into his arms, to control me and ruin any relationship I tried to start with anyone else. I know he would be a nightmare to deal with, and I would probably end up waving the white flag and going back to him to try and work things out—especially with a little baby in the picture and the tempting vision of a perfect little family in my mushy heart. For all of the reasons in the world, it is good that I am not pregnant.
On an irrational, sentimental level buried deep, I’m just a pinch sad about it.
But that can easily be ignored. I’m rational most of the time, and the overwhelming majority of me is immensely relieved Carter didn’t ruin my life.
Not yet, anyway. When I saw Luke at church on Sunday, I didn’t get a chance to talk to him like I wanted to. At school, Carter would be able to see me talk to Luke, but if I pull him aside at church… well, Carter isn’t going to church, that’s for sure.
I don’t think Carter did talk to Luke though, because while I didn’t get to pull him aside and talk to him, Luke didn’t act weird around me. He flashed me friendly smiles from across the room, both of us gesturing that we would catch up later, we just never did.