Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Who is this punk West? I know I can only ask Emily so much before she starts to ask her own questions back, so I make sure to get right to the important things. If I want full details, I’ll have to have someone get it for me. I’ll also have them pull what they can on Molly. I hadn’t given her much thought. I’d dug into her mother of course.
Grace was never married before but had Molly when she was only twenty while putting herself through nursing school. The father listed on the birth certificate is dead. He died a few years after Molly was born. That’s all I’d dug up on the girl besides Emily telling me she was nice. I had noted that Grace had given her daughter her own last name and not the father’s who was listed on the birth certificate. Not sure what to make of that.
How old is she? Oh fuck. If I recall, she’d been seventeen when my father married Grace. She’s still in fucking high school. Same grade as Emily. I’d never paid much attention to the school uniform until today. The polo shirt fit snuggly to her lush tits. The girl is curvy all over. Seventeen! My mind screams even as my cock hardens.
It was forever ago since I last checked that. Not quite a year but close. She could be eighteen now. My hand slips back down into my sweatpants. I start to jack myself off again. I tell myself it’s so I can go to sleep, but I know the truth.
That little mouse shook something inside of me when she ran into me. And I have reason to believe that I’m never going to be the same.
Now I’m more than pissed. No, it's something more. I don’t know what to call what I am, but I don’t like it. Not one fucking bit.
5
Molly
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Mom asks when I step out of my closet having changed from my school uniform.
Yeah. She always comes to find me when I get home from school. Normally I hit the kitchen and get something to eat since I always have a small lunch. Today, however, I only grabbed a candy bar before I made my escape to my bedroom. I hadn’t been ready to meet Asher yet. That plan went to hell quickly.
“I met Asher.”
“Oh?” Her tone goes up a few octaves. Silence fills the room, and I know she’s waiting for me to elaborate.
“Only for a second. I kind of ran into him outside of Tomas’s office.” No way am I going to tell her what I overheard. Now if Tomas had said something out of line, I would, but he’d stood up for my mom, and that’s all that matters. I’m not adding to any of the stress she’s having over Asher. And it’s not Tomas' fault that his son is acting like a jerk.
“Was he nice?” I shrug, not wanting to lie to her.
“Didn’t really say much to each other.”
“I’m sure everyone will get more acquainted over dinner.” Mom forces a smile, and I hope my fake ones aren’t as terrible as hers.
“Don’t sweat it, Mom. He’s not sticking around.” I think it’s clear Asher doesn’t plan to stay any longer than he has to. I think that's for the best.
“Maybe so, but we’re family now, and it would be nice if everyone got along.”
“That would be nice, but we can’t make people like us. But I do believe if he took the time to get to know you, he’d see how wonderful you are. If he doesn’t care to do that, then who cares. It’ll be his loss.” I use some of the same words she’s said to me when I found it hard to make friends.
“You’re right.” Her smile meets her eyes now. “I’ll let you get to studying.” She gives me a kiss on the cheek before she slips from my room. I let out a long breath, falling back on my bed.
What the heck had that been? When my body collided with Asher’s, it had lit up in a way it never has before. It has to be the mix of emotions I’m having today. So much in my life is about to change again.
I sit up and grab my bag to study for this final. I’ll be done with Bradford, but then what? College, I suppose. It doesn’t feel like I have much of a choice. I should be excited, but all I can muster is anxiety.
Opening my textbook, I start reading over some highlights. Before I know it, there is a knock on my door again before it cracks open.
“It’s time for dinner, honey,” Mom says.
“Sorry. I lost track of time.” I glance around my desk for my phone and remember I shoved it back into my bag. I stand from my desk. Mom has changed into a pretty, flowy spring dress. “Do I need to change?” I’m in yoga pants and an oversized sweater. I pull it back up from my one shoulder it slipped off of.