Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
No.
Zoey James stands in front of me, her elbows braced against the counter, facing the woman in the office. Those big green eyes I used to adore are locked on mine as though she can’t believe what she’s seeing.
And fuck, neither can I.
I feel like I’ve just been shot right through the chest.
Zoey fucking James. I knew I would see her today. It was inevitable. She’s been going to East View High since the beginning of freshman year, not that I’ve been keeping tabs on her, but I wasn’t prepared for this, not even close.
Her back stiffens, and I watch the subtle way she curls her hands into fists at her sides, trying to hide the fact they’re shaking. But there’s no hiding from me. I know her better than she knows herself. At least, I used to. That’s in the past now, right where it’s going to stay.
My heart pounds out of my chest as the world fades around us, so many things left unsaid but never forgotten. Zoey has been nothing but a figment of my imagination for three years, a constant reminder of the agony that lives in the darkest pits of my soul.
I walked away without a backward glance, not even a goodbye, and that’s exactly how it’s going to stay.
Zoey remains frozen on the spot, and I can almost read her thoughts. They’re so fucking loud, they’re practically screaming at me—demanding answers, demanding anything that will bring her just a hint of closure. But she’s not going to get it from me.
I’ve always been able to read her. Those bright green eyes give her away—and now is no different. Though, there’s no denying that those bright eyes somehow seem duller now.
Unable to handle the intensity of her horrified stare, I shift my gaze down her body and realize just how much she’s changed. She’s not some scrawny kid in a pretty dress anymore. She’s taller now, wears her hair differently, and is more than aware of her body. Hell, she has tits now.
The last time I saw her, she was in a black dress, holding my hand at my little brother’s funeral. I’ve never been able to get the image of her from that day out of my head. It haunts me. But the girl standing before me now—this isn’t her. I don’t know this girl. She’s changed. She’s closed off, hesitant, and pain radiates through her eyes—a pain I know I put there, and one I sure as hell won’t be taking away. Besides, Zoey James doesn’t need me anymore.
My gaze trails back up, over her denim shorts that show off her toned legs, and to a sweater that falls off her bare shoulder. She crosses her arms over her body, and I narrow my stare, realizing I’ve made her self-conscious, but that’s her problem, not mine.
I know I’m being obvious, but so is she. Her gaze has roamed up and down my body at least four times already, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s seeing. I’m certainly not the same clean-cut kid she once knew. He was pathetic. Weak. But now? I don’t even know. I’m a fucking stranger to myself.
But when it comes to Zoey James, I know she’s looking much deeper than what’s on the surface—she’s trying to get a read on me, trying to figure me out, but I’m not about to let that happen. I’m not hers to save. Not anymore.
It feels like a lifetime of silence before she sucks in a deep breath and raises her chin, determination flaring through her green stare. I shake my head, willing her not to try, but before I can prepare myself, she forces a smile across her face and takes a hesitant step toward me. Her smile is so fake that it leaves me desperate to see a real one—the one that used to be reserved for only me.
She puts herself right in front of me, making my chest ache for a time when life used to be simple and carefree. When life used to be full of love and happiness instead of this dark hell I’ve been haunted by.
“Long time no see, huh?” she says, her eyes sparkling as if expecting things to be as easy as they used to be—as if the stars will align just by forcing us together. I have to keep myself from scoffing. I’ve gotta give it to her, she was always so optimistic, but if she hasn’t figured it out after three long years, then I don’t know what to tell her. What we used to be is over. Done. Dead.
I stare at her a moment longer, the silence so fucking loud between us. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Her eyes widen. I’m sure she expected this to go a million possible ways, but this wasn’t one of them. A flicker of hurt lingers in her stare, and for the first time in three years, it’s a little easier to breathe.