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)
Since clearly I’m not going to get any studying done and Jake is only going to further annoy me if I stay here, I gather my things, grab my purse, and prepare to leave the aisle. Before I can, his hand shoots out and he grabs my arm. “Not so fuckin’ fast, sweetheart.”
“Get your hand off me,” I tell him, glancing back over my shoulder. “How many fucking times do I have to say that to you before it sinks in? I don’t like when you touch me, even casually. Keep your hands to yourself.”
I have to yank hard on my hand to get it free, then I make my way down the steps of the stadium. I don’t know where to go, I just need to get away from him. Looking down the aisles as I move lower and lower, I look for a spot, but there really aren’t any. It’s close to championships, homecoming is next week—people aren’t missing games right now, they’re bringing more people to cheer.
By the time I’ve made it to the ground, all I feel like doing is going home. I wonder how disappointed Carter would be if I left. We’re all supposed to go to the café after the game, but I don’t feel like scouring the stadium for a place to sit, either.
Making matters much worse, when I turn around, I see Jake heading toward me down the steps.
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” I mutter to myself. I start to round the corner to leave the stadium, but then it occurs to me, he could follow me. I don’t think he would take things as far as Carter has, but having seen the way Carter fights, I know Jake will be his next “social hit” if he hears about Jake so much as touching my wrist.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Jake says, surprising the hell out of me.
I can’t help turning to face him, wide-eyed. “What did you just say to me?”
“I didn’t intend to piss you off, you just….” He trails off, shaking his head. “I don’t think Carter’s good for you. I don’t understand why he did worse to you than I did, but you like him. You say it’s not the money, but what else could it be? What does he have that I don’t?”
I don’t know whether to feel bad for Jake because he is so unaccustomed to rejection that he literally can’t process it, or aggravated by his entitlement. I understand that he doesn’t understand, but I can’t explain it in a way that would ever help him accept it, either. The better question to me is, why the hell does he like me? I’ve never spent time with Jake like I have with Carter. At this point, I feel like Jake only likes me because Carter wants me. If I can hold the attention of Carter Mahoney, I must be something special.
“Look, what do you and I have in common, Jake? What do I like to do in my free time? What’s my favorite subject in school? Why is it my favorite? What do I want more than anything else in the world? What is it about a guy that really turns me on? Why do I come to my boyfriend’s football game, then spend half the time studying? Am I just an asshole? What matters to me? For that matter, what is your favorite thing about me? Not physical, something else.”
He blinks vacantly, completely unprepared for any of those questions.
I nod my head knowingly. “Exactly. You don’t know. Carter does. He knows the answers to all of those questions and more. He gives me answers to questions I didn’t even have. Carter gets me, and he likes what’s really there. I’m an idea to you, that’s all. Being infatuated with an idea might feel nice, but it isn’t real. I am not the girl you have in your mind. If I were, you wouldn’t be so constantly agitated by my reality. Carter and I see each other, the real shit, the dark and dirty stuff, not just the nice stuff. We know each other well, and the more we learn, the more we like. We just fit better. That is the explanation. That is why he and I are good together, and you and I never could be.”
He’s scowling at the end of my speech, but before he has a chance to respond, Brianna comes bouncing over from the line-up of cheerleaders.
“What’s goin’ on over here?” she asks, glancing between us.
“Nothing, he was just leaving,” I tell her. To Jake, I nod pointedly back up the stadium steps. “You better go get that seat before someone takes it.”
He doesn’t immediately move, so Brianna props a hand on her hip and looks at him expectantly. “Go on, Jake.”
His lips curve up cynically. “You know, Brianna, I think this is the first time you’ve spoken to me since Carter banished me.”