Total pages in book: 174
Estimated words: 173355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 693(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 693(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
“But that’s not true,” I say. “You’re not too late. I know you think that but you’ll see. I think Reed isn’t as bad as everyone thinks he is.”
A few moments pass as he studies me before completely ignoring what I just said and going, “The reason I called you in here is to tell you that I’m revoking your privileges.”
“What?”
“Just because everyone else including you thinks you’re not trouble, doesn’t mean that you aren’t. So starting from this weekend, I’ve asked that your outing privileges be revoked for the next four weeks.”
My eyes are wide. “Four weeks?”
“Yes.” He nods curtly. “Maybe this will be a further incentive for you. To be a good girl. As you think you are.”
My heart skips a beat at his good girl and I part my lips.
Then, “Okay. All right. I deserve it.”
He studies my straightened posture before saying, “You can leave now.”
With that he slides that roster lying on his desk toward him, dismissing me.
From his office. From his mind.
So very easily.
So very, very easily. How glorious it must be, how convenient that he can forget me just like that.
While I stand here on buzzing legs, watching him for a few seconds more.
Mourning the end of our meeting.
Sighing, I turn around and walk to the door. My trembling hands turn the handle and open it. But my legs that are prickling with his name on them won’t move and I turn back around.
And my mouth blurts out a question that I wasn’t expecting to.
“Can I draw you?”
In the two seconds that it has taken me to walk from the chair to the door, he’s picked up his pen and he’s already on the second page of the roster, completely and utterly absorbed in it.
Not anymore though.
The paper crinkles as if his fingers have tightened around it. And the pen clutched in his hand stops moving.
Good.
I’ve stolen his focus then. I’ve won back that little space in his mind that he so easily just thrust me out of.
He lifts his eyes, his gaze electric. “What?”
“Can I… would you let me draw you?”
I’m not sure what I’m saying.
This was so completely not the plan.
But still I go on. “I mean, I’m an artist, as you know. And artists draw. And I’d love to, uh, draw you if you’d —”
“Leave.”
“But I —”
He abandons his pen then, straightening up and away from the desk. “Out.”
“But maybe you should —”
This time I stop talking because he stands up.
His eyes flash and pin me in my place as he rounds the desk and approaches me with long, purposeful strides. As if that’s needed. As if he needs to pin me in my spot. As if I’d move.
I won’t.
I’m not going anywhere. I don’t even want to.
Even though he looks so dangerous, so… predatory while walking up to me. And then he reaches me and he still doesn’t stop destroying the distance between us.
He leans down and down and I go up and up.
Until he does something beyond my imagination – he touches me.
He grips my bicep over my cardigan, his fingers firm and strong.
Warm.
And he uses them to sort of push me back — not harshly but not gently either — making me take a step back, and it’s the step that takes me out of the room. And while I’m letting that sink in, that I’m not in his office anymore, he takes his hand off me and grits, “We’re done here.”
With that, he slams the office door in my face.
I’ve fallen from grace.
At least that’s what Poe happily calls it.
In the last week, I’ve argued with a teacher, been called into his office, and gotten my outing privileges revoked.
For four weeks.
The last no one knows except for Poe and Salem. And again I’ve asked them to keep it to themselves and not tell Callie. Getting called into a teacher’s office is one thing, but getting your privileges revoked is something else. Especially for me, because this has never happened to me before. If Callie knew, she would no doubt force the truth out of me.
So as much as I hate to keep a secret from my very best friend, I’m doing it.
I’m also sticking to my original plan: move the fuck on.
From my obsession, fascination, preoccupation with him.
My Mystery Man.
Because not only could my friendship with Callie be at stake, I could potentially lose everything that I’ve been working toward.
Something my guidance counselor brought to my attention.
Needless to say, she’s extremely upset over my recent behavior. Which I also hate, because I really don’t like to upset her. Something not a lot of students at St. Mary’s can say.
At St. Mary’s, guidance counselors are the keepers of our privileges. We meet with them every week to evaluate our performance, our behavior, our future plans. They are the ones who keep tabs on all your good and bad deeds and hence what privileges we’re afforded or not.