Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Then, in an act of even further desperation, I hold my book in front of my face, sleazy romantic cover be damned. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all, and I can’t hold my napkin in front of my face.
Oh my God, I can’t imagine how stupid I look. I can’t even think about it without getting ill.
Shit, shit, double SHIT.
* * *
Weston
Obviously I can see Molly in the corner of the restaurant, and from the looks of it, she is one camper who is not happy to see me. I study her for a few brief seconds while my friends make snide comments beside me, and she kind of actually reminds me of this one time I took Kendall to the zoo and they let us hold a baby chinchilla. First the tiny little critter avoided all eye contact from the corner of its cage, then once I picked it up, it pretended to be dead.
“Guys, check it out. Stalker alert, one o’clock,” Derek jokes loudly, smacking Adam in the arm and pointing toward Molly’s table. A hollow pit forms in my stomach, because the jackass was so loud there is no doubt she heard him.
“What, like there are no other places to eat around here?” Erik Travers chimes in, and I immediately lose any respect I had for him, labeling him a follower and adding him to my shit list, mentally noting to take him out at tomorrow’s practice.
“Dude, you know a chick’s desperate when she—”
“Would you assholes mind shutting the fuck up?” Rick comes up behind me, growling at our small party of teammates. “Keep it up, pansies, and I’ll have you skating suicides on a day we don’t have practice.” Rick claps his large hand on my shoulder. “You dickheads go sit down. I wanna talk to McGrath real quick.”
I move to go sit, but he stops me with a hand on my chest. “Why don’t you just go over there, for crap’s sake? You look like someone kicked your puppy.”
“Because I keep fucking up by saying all the wrong shit. She hates me.” If I didn’t know any better, I would say my shoulders were sagging a little from both exhaustion and defeat.
“Jesus Christ, do you sound like a girl,” Rick says, his lip curling in disgust.
“What do you even care? I thought you were pissed at me,” I mumble, glancing over my shoulder to watch Molly hiding behind her book.
“Well damn, it’s better than watching you mope. I might be a prick, and I might not really give a shit about your feelings, but I want to win games, and dude, for the past few days you’ve royally sucked.”
“Gee, Rick, tell me how you really feel.”
“Since you asked, I guess I could be apologizing for my asshole behavior with Molly. I guess I didn’t realize you were seriously interested. Plus, let’s be honest, I kind of have a huge ego.” Rick shrugs and claps me on the back.
“Please stop before you end up hugging me and I have to punch you in the nuts.”
Obviously I can see Molly in the corner of the restaurant, and from the looks of it, she is one camper who is not happy to see me. I study her for a few brief seconds while my friends make snide comments beside me, and she kind of actually reminds me of this one time I took Kendall to the zoo and they let us hold a baby chinchilla. First the tiny little critter avoided all eye contact from the corner of its cage, then once I picked it up, it pretended to be dead.
“Guys, check it out. Stalker alert, one o’clock,” Derek jokes loudly, smacking Adam in the arm and pointing toward Molly’s table. A hollow pit forms in my stomach, because the jackass was so loud there is no doubt she heard him.
“What, like there are no other places to eat around here?” Erik Travers chimes in, and I immediately lose any respect I had for him, labeling him a follower and adding him to my shit list, mentally noting to take him out at tomorrow’s practice.
“Dude, you know a chick’s desperate when she—”
“Would you assholes mind shutting the fuck up?” Rick comes up behind me, growling at our small party of teammates. “Keep it up, pansies, and I’ll have you skating suicides on a day we don’t have practice.” Rick claps his large hand on my shoulder. “You dickheads go sit down. I wanna talk to McGrath real quick.”
I move to go sit, but he stops me with a hand on my chest. “Why don’t you just go over there, for crap’s sake? You look like someone kicked your puppy.”
“Because I keep fucking up by saying all the wrong shit. She hates me.” If I didn’t know any better, I would say my shoulders were sagging a little from both exhaustion and defeat.