Angry God Read online L.J. Shen (All Saints High #3)

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors: Series: All Saints High Series by L.J. Shen
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
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The last thing I remember before I fainted was screaming so loud the walls rattled. When I woke up afterwards, a few junior girls helped me to my feet. I was fully clothed, so they didn’t see my back, but the blue and purple marks stayed for two months.

Now, Poppy was giving me a long sideways look, demanding to know why I was so upset.

“Why were you crying? Why were you yelling at someone to die? What’s going on, Lenny?”

There was no point in telling her. The school year was officially over. By next week, I’d be on the plane, picking up where I’d left off at home.

Carlisle Castle.

Art.

Pope.

There was going to be an entire ocean between Arabella, Soren, Alice, and me. Vaughn would be there, true, but he’d never hurt me physically. He just liked to taunt me with his venomous kisses and mind games. I could handle him.

I shook my head. “I just had a bad dream, that’s all. You know how I miss Mum extra hard every time we go through a change in life. I’m thinking about what’s next. Moving back is going to be weird without her there.”

It wasn’t even a complete lie. I did miss Mum like hell. But I was delighted to go back home. Poppy scanned my face intently before sliding under my duvet beside me, scooting her butt next to mine.

“Oh, I know, Lenny-loo.” She wrapped an arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple.

Poppy had been there for me since Mum passed away. That’s why I was never going to fully forgive Knight for breaking her heart, even though the writing was on the wall.

“But I’ll be attending the London School of Economics, just a few short hours away from Carlisle,” she reminded me. “I’ll check on you all the time. I promise.”

I believed her.

She wiggled and took something from the back pocket of her PJs. A Hershey’s Kiss. Unwrapping it, she popped it into my mouth.

“Here. I was going to indulge a little, but you seem to need it more than I do. Chocolate has always soothed you, since you were a kid. Now go to sleep, and have sweet dreams, all right? I promise you, life will be sweet from now on.” She kissed my temple again, brushing my hair away from my forehead.

The nightmare didn’t come back.

The next day, I woke up to a basket full of assorted chocolate on my nightstand.

Poppy.

I bought a hair dye remover and washed my hair, gradually bringing it back to its natural sunshine color. I dumped the lip ring and the septum piercing into the bathroom bin. There was no more need to pretend.

I was who I was, and I was going to be enough.

Graduation came and went in a blur of flying hats, silky robes, and wholesome family pictures everybody faked their smiles through. The night before we flew back to England, Poppy threw a goodbye party and invited all of her old mates, even the assholes.

Even Arabella, Alice, and Soren.

I couldn’t dispute it. She had no idea what they’d done to me, and had no clue I was so shaken by Arabella and Vaughn’s public blow job. Besides, Poppy wanted to erase the aftertaste of the last pool party we’d been to—the one where they’d almost killed her.

The house was naked of furniture at this point. Everything was packed, wrapped, and shipped back to England. It was a bare, open, cold space with loads of alcohol and snacks on the kitchen counter.

Poppy had asked me several times if I was okay with her throwing a party.

I’d said yes. And I wasn’t lying. Even though I knew damn well I was going to be locked somewhere for a few hours, feeling like a reject, I didn’t want to ruin it for my sister. I had it all planned out.

I spent the time in the attic, in Papa’s studio—now an empty space, with the vacant shape of Vaughn’s sculpture in the center of it, adorned by a thick layer of stone dust.

No one could get into the studio without the key, and I locked myself in from the inside, stocking up on water bottles and a party mix chocolate bag Poppy had left on my nightstand earlier that day. I slipped the key onto a shoestring and made a bracelet out of it, tying it around my wrist so I wouldn’t lose it.

The echo of the music downstairs rattled the attic’s walls and floor, but I had my headphones on, bobbing my head to “Handsome Devil” by The Smiths and sketching on my pad, sitting on the floor with my back against the wall.

I took a bite of a chocolate-peanut pretzel and clapped my tongue against the roof of my mouth, savoring the taste of the cocoa and salt dissolving. I made a mental note to thank Poppy for leaving me a pack of sweets every single night since The Nightmare, the night Vaughn and Arabella had provided me with a horror show.


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