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)
51
Noah
My pen taps against the desk as I stare down at my exam papers. There’s still forty-three minutes remaining, and truth be told, all I’ve managed to write is my fucking name at the top. It’s Zoey’s eighteenth birthday, very possibly her last birthday ever, and I’m sitting here instead of being with her.
If I’d somehow found a way to be with her today, I’m sure she would have been happy to pass on her ridiculous need to go to school. I understand her reasonings for wanting to go, but she’s too fucking stubborn to know when to call it quits. She’s not strong enough to endure a whole day at school. She needs to be in her bed resting, but she’s determined to see it through and prove to herself that she can.
Fuck, she makes me so angry sometimes. I don’t even care that I’ve been acting like a little bitch by blowing up her phone today. I need to know she’s alright.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I shoot my gaze across the room to my professor, making sure he’s still fully engrossed in the papers on his desk before slipping my phone out of my pocket, expecting a text from Zoey. Only it’s Hope’s name that flashes across the screen.
What the fuck?
I quickly unlock my phone and open the new text.
Hope: You need to get home. Now.
I’m out of my fucking chair so fast my exam papers fly off my desk, and I quickly scramble to pick them up before racing to the front of the room. I drop the papers on my professor’s desk, barely sparing him a glance before racing for the door with my phone already at my ear.
It rings twice before Hope picks up. “You on your way?” she demands, sheer panic in her tone.
“Yeah,” I grunt, hurrying across campus toward my car. “What the fuck happened?”
“Tarni,” she spits. “She was already too exhausted to be there, I was trying to talk her into going home, but Tarni—that fucking bitch—she had other plans. She humiliated her in front of the whole fucking school, tore her wig off, and laughed about her being bald to the point they were all laughing at her.”
“FUCK!”
“She’s in the hospital now. I’m on my way.”
“Wait. WHAT?” I demand, my eyes going wide. “How the fuck did she end up in the hospital? What happened?”
“Oh,” Hope says, realizing she jumped too far ahead in her recap. “She took off. She got all her shit and ran to her car, but it was too much, especially after how exhausted she already was. Apparently, she collapsed in the student parking lot, and if Principal Daniels hadn’t waited so long to tell me, I’d already fucking be there by now.”
“What do you mean apparently?” I demand, throwing myself into my car and kicking over the engine, barely giving it a second before slamming it into gear and hitting the gas. “Where the fuck were you when this happened?”
The call switches over to the car’s Bluetooth, and Hope’s voice sails through my speakers. “I was too busy beating the shit out of Tarni,” she tells me. “I got her good too. Think I gave her a black eye. It was fucking amazing. She won’t be a problem anymore.”
I scoff. Tarni will cease being a problem only when I’m personally through with her. “Just tell me Zoey is okay.”
“I think so,” she says. “I haven’t been able to talk to her personally, but from what I understand, Principal Daniels found her in the parking lot and took her to the nurse, and then they called the ambulance. But apparently that was only for precaution. The lady in the student office said she was okay, but . . . I don’t know. Apart from when she was having her chemo, I’ve never seen her so exhausted.”
“Fuck. Okay,” I say, trying to calm myself. “I’m two hours away, an hour and a half if I’m fast. If they let you in to see her, let me know how she’s doing.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in ten.”
Hope ends the call, and I try Zoey’s cell but get nothing. I dial her mom next and check in. She tells me just about as much as Hope did, but unlike Hope, she’s actually been allowed to speak to Zoey, which goes a long way in calming my fears.
It’s almost an hour into my drive back to East View when my phone rings again, but this time, it’s Zoey’s name on the screen, and I quickly answer the call. “Babe?”
“I’m okay,” Zoey says in a small voice as if she’s already preparing for me to blow up.
“Zo, what the fuck?”
“I thought I could make it,” she says, her voice cracking, and fuck, I can just imagine the tears in her eyes as her voice wobbles.