Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
I’m missing class today just to be at this meeting. God knows Dad isn’t the one to come. When I showed up today to pick her up, he was still asleep. I was the one to make us breakfast, help her pick out her clothes, put a load of clothes in the wash, and usher her out the door.
I ruffle her hair, forcing lightness into my voice. She’s sometimes quick to pick up on how I feel, and I like to think it’s flashes of the old Raven, the one who made straight As in school and was a normal sixteen-year-old girl.
“We only get one tour. How about some ice cream at Buster’s? You love their chocolate raspberry.”
Her shoulders shift in a vulnerable way, as if she’s preparing herself. “Pineview…won’t…let…me…in?”
I laugh and hook our arms together as we walk down the hall and head toward the parking lot. “It just takes time to get you signed up, that’s all.”
She sighs. “Wish…I…could…snap…my…fingers…make…everything…how…it…used…to…be.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat.
Delaney
He-Man: I’m sorry about the baseball party, Princess Leia. Forgive me?
Me: Why should I?
He-Man: Because we’re friends.
Me: Are we?
He-Man: I hope so. I left a gift for you at the front desk of the library. Did you get it?
Me: Yes.
He-Man: Well? Do you like it?
Me: What’s not to love about a full-size movie poster of The Princess Bride? Thank you.
He-Man: I may not be texting you as much. I’ve got some personal things going on, but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about you.
Me: What’s going on?
He-Man: Just…wait for me.
“Hey,” comes a husky voice, and I flip around, dropping the book I was trying to shelve.
It’s Maverick, and my eyes drink him in. His face appears tired, his expression somber as he studies me. It’s been almost a week since the party, and things are weird. When he showed up for class on Monday, I’d switched seats on him, opting to sit in the front row. Maybe it was a test to see if he would follow me. He didn’t. His eyes searched the room and found me, and though I saw disappointment there—or maybe relief—he took his usual seat in the back. On Wednesday, it was the same. He sat in the back, and I was down in front.
“We haven’t talked since the party,” Maverick says, bending down to pick up the book and hand it to me.
“Yeah,” I mutter.
He tucks his hands in his pockets and leans against one of the racks, his gaze studying me intently. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t show up for salsa this week. Things are on hold with me right now. My dad is going through some things, and I’m spending a lot of time with my sister.”
I give him a shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as I can when really I was devastated when he didn’t show. I stood outside the door until the very last minute, hoping he’d appear. I didn’t even have his phone number to text him.
“It’s fine. You did miss some great plantains though.” I’ve torn my eyes off him because he’s too handsome, and I stare down at the cart of books I need to get shelved. “I need to get back to this…so if you don’t mind, maybe we can chat later?”
He exhales and takes a step closer to me. “Delaney, I’m sorry…I just need to focus on football…” His voice trails off.
His words hurt, and it makes me angry that I’ve let my guard down and allowed him to get this close. “I’m sure you do have big things going on—football, and probably a different girl every night.” It’s not a fair assumption, but I can’t stop the words from coming out.
He frowns. “It’s not like that at all. I’m taking care of my sister, juggling classes and practice, and working through some other things.”
“What things?”
He stiffens and shutters his face, not giving anything away, but this nerd girl can read him like a book: he’s withdrawing. He doesn’t want to share. He doesn’t want me.
I let out a sigh. “Good luck with your life,” I say as I grip the cart and push it down the aisle.
Maverick
I’m at Carson’s Gym, and I grunt out my displeasure when I take a direct hit to the face from my sparring partner. Rio, the guy Leslie has paired me up with, dances away from me, grinning around his big-ass mouthpiece. His hits are sneaky and he’s got a mean left hook, but I’m bigger, faster, and light on my feet. Being in tune with my body and how it works is something I’ve always been good at. Boxing is second nature to me as well, something I took to in high school since my dad used to work here doing part-time janitorial duties.
My skill is the reason Leslie is interested in me—well, that and my name in football. He’s standing down on the floor watching us, a cold look on his face, wearing a slick tailored suit. I’ve already met with him this week, and he’s made it clear what he wants from me: a fight with another SEC football player. No rules, just me and another guy in a boxing ring. My gut churns at the prospect of putting everything on the line—my career, my whole fucking life.