Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
By the time I make it to the dining room, I’ve already considered going back to my room ten times. This place is too big, too over the top. It’s not home even though it’s more than my mother and I ever had. It still doesn’t compare, though.
Stepping into the formal space I've only seen a couple of times since moving in, I drag my eyes to the long table meant for twenty chairs. The soft rug under my bare feet runs the length of the room, from the door to the far wall, with a floor-to-ceiling window that looks out upon the estate.
Seb sits in the first chair on the right side of the table, holding a dainty tea cup. I want to smile at the ridiculously tiny cup, but I don’t have the energy.
After a second, he spots me, stands, and pulls out the chair at the head of the table, with its back to the window. It wouldn’t be my first choice for seating, but I don't have the energy to argue, so I mutter a thanks and sit.
My ass has barely hit the seat when one of the staff bustles out of a side door with a tray of food and a carafe of coffee with all the fixings.
The contents are distributed around my place setting, and once the maid leaves, I stare down at the sheer mass of food that is about to go to waste. There's no way in hell I'm going to eat all of this. My stomach feels weird just looking at it.
As if Sebastian can read my mind, he speaks, "Just eat what you want and leave the rest." It seems like such a ridiculous waste, but I don’t bother arguing with him. I pick up a croissant and nibble on it.
"It's good to see you out of your room," he adds casually as he sips his coffee out of that stupid cup.
His tone is too unconcerned, like if he points out that I've left my room, I might make a mad dash back there.
"I'm sick of wallowing." My voice catches. "Don't get me wrong. I still miss my mother more than anything, but I can't lie in that bed any longer. Lying around and doing nothing makes me sick. I need to find my way back to who I am."
I sigh and grab a fork, spearing a piece of egg. I've lost way too much weight in the past month, weight I couldn't afford to lose in the first place. I eye the runny yolk and force myself to take a bite.
"I agree, and I think you should consider going back to school. You can re-enroll at any time. All I need to do is make a phone call to the administration building. I had them hold your spot, and you won’t be penalized either.” Of course I won’t be. I withhold an eye roll. Money can buy you anything. Power. Corruption. I never asked for any of this, and maybe that’s why my mother hid the truth from me. Why didn't she tell me about my brother or family? Maybe it’s because she left them all.
I consider everything while chewing the eggs slowly. They don’t taste half bad.
It's still disconcerting to me that Sebastian’s being so nice after everything that happened between him and me, between Drew and me. He’s Drew’s best friend, so he should take his side, but if anything, Sebastian appears to be against him now, and I don’t know if I can or should trust that.
He might be my only relation left, but I don't expect him to take care of me like a child. In fact, I’m very against it. I’m not going to be anybody’s problem.
"I'll figure it out. I mean..." I let out a long sigh. "I’m undecided. The idea of going back to Oakmount terrifies me. It brings back all kinds of memories that I don’t want to relive. Plus, I don't even have my laptop or my books.”
Maybe I could enroll in online classes instead? No. As antisocial as I like to tell myself I am, I'd miss the library too much. Hell, I already miss it. The smell of the books, the quietness. I haven't been back to campus or my dorm room since my mom died, and the thought of going back makes the eggs in my belly churn roughly.
"None of that is a big deal. We can get you new books, and you already have a new laptop. Those are easy fixes.” He gives me a boyish smile that might have warmed my heart previously, but now just annoys me.
I hate myself for hating Sebastian.
He keeps throwing around how easy it is to drop thousands of dollars like it's nothing. I might have money now, not that I've really spent anything, but that doesn't mean I can switch my brain to his rich boy way of thinking automatically. I refuse to let the concept of money change my thinking. I’m still Maybel. The quiet, shy bookworm. I’m still the girl my mom loved.