Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“I am not!”
Nora started grilling Diane, her questioning coming to an abrupt halt when a rainbow sherbet Push-Pop dropped in front of me.
“Happy Birthday, baby girl,” Bellamy whispered in my ear, low enough no one else could have heard. His warm breath tickled my skin as his lips pressed to my throat. Every nerve ending lit up, and there it was--the real reason I missed him. He wasn’t just exciting. He set my soul on fire and filled the cold void that I hadn’t even realized lingered within me until him.
Before I could thank him, he was on his way back to his table.
“Aw.” Diane sighed. “He gave you a Push-Pop!”
“He probably stole it from a freshman.” Nora shook her head.
Probably.
My phone buzzed on the table and a text ribbon popped up at the top of the screen: Dickhead: And don’t think part of that gift isn’t selfish. I like to watch you suck it.
I glanced across the cafeteria. Bellamy’s attention was aimed directly at me, that smirk playing over his lips. I didn’t care if it was selfish. I had no idea how he knew it was my birthday, but it didn’t matter, because he did and he remembered. All while I knew he was dealing with his own problems. It made my heart do a pathetic little cough.
Me: Thank you
When I got home from school, a package from Genevieve waited on my porch.
I took the box inside and untied the bright, purple ribbon, pulling out a slut-red dress.
A note fluttered to the floor, Genevieve’s perfect handwriting scrawled across it wishing me a happy birthday. And still not a word from my dad.
I managed to hold it together until it was nine o’clock at night and I sat, alone in the living room, staring at the text.
Me: Hey
Dad: I’m at a business dinner. Is it important?
No, apparently, I wasn’t important. Not like I didn’t already know that though.
Rejection sunk in deep, like a blade wedged between my ribs, stilting my breaths, and I gave in to tears. Tears that I hated to spill over him. Tears he didn’t deserve.
Swallowing hard, I pulled myself together and shoved my emotions down into that dark little hole where Black Mountain had taught me to hide them.
I typed out a text to Bellamy, then stopped halfway through and deleted it.
I was down and in need. A text now would be me starting to rely on him, and that was a slippery slope I couldn’t afford to go down. Not with a guy like Bellamy--Not with a guy I felt like I’d already lost control with.
I was used to having no one, and it was best to keep it that way for the next few weeks until Barrington and Dayton were distant memories.
So instead of inviting him over, I poured a glass of wine, necked it, and sent a text to Nora and Diane.
Me: Party at mine tonight. Invite everyone. Free drinks and a pool.
Screw my dad.
36
Bellamy
Hendrix: You going?
Wolf: He’s going.
She hadn’t invited me. She hadn’t invited anyone--Nora had. That threw me for a loop.
Nora couldn’t be throwing a surprise birthday party at Drew’s house, and there was no way her asshole dad would let this many people come over--especially not the likes of people from Dayton so... What the hell was going on?
Hendrix: One of you dickwads pick me up. Free drinks. I’m getting hammered. Then I’m going to be doing the hammering...
Wolf: Bell’s gonna be hammering Paris Hilton
Cars lined the street when I pulled in front of Drew’s house. Every window was lit up.
Me: Might. Don’t know
I sent the text to the guys, then stuffed my phone in my pocket, and shimmied over the center console and started up her drive.
Landscape lighting gleaned over the side of a pink Porsche with a ridiculous white bow on the hood. Porsche or not, that thing was hideous and I absolutely could not see Drew driving it.
Loud music poured through the open door, and I followed the hum of conversation into the kitchen. There were no balloons, no streamers, nothing that would indicate it was a birthday celebration.
Nora and Diane stood at the counter, taking shots while a group of football players cheered them on.
The second Nora slammed her shot glass down, her gaze locked with mine. “Oh. Yay. You came.”
She staggered over to me and dug a finger into my shoulder. The liquor must have been doing a number on her. “What exactly are you trying to do with my friend?” she asked.
“Your friend?”
“Yeah. My friend.” She crossed her arms over her chest and popped her hip to the side. “The one you’re...dating.”
“Ah. That friend.”
“Don’t be you, Bellamy.”
I snagged a bottle of beer from an ice bucket on the table. Some expensive shit imported from Belgium. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” I said.
“Don’t break her heart.”