Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
First and second period seem to drag on forever. I check my phone every few minutes to see if I’ve gotten any messages from Landon. I’m not expecting him to message me or anything, but I’m hoping he will. After the hundredth time of reaching into my backpack to check, I force myself not to check anymore.
During third period, when my phone vibrates in my bag, I get excited and pull it out, only to find it’s a text from Richie, asking if we can talk.
Me: There’s nothing to talk about. We’re over.
Richie: Just like that?
Me: Just like that.
I know I sound cold, but I’m not sure what else to say. We’ve only been broken up for like eighteen hours, yet it feels like a ten-ton weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Richie must get the message—pun intended—because he doesn’t text me back.
When lunch rolls around, instead of sitting with everyone, I grab my food and find a hidden spot away from everyone so I can finish my project that’s due next period. I’m lost in concentration, when a shadow cuts into my sunlight.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re hiding.”
I glance up and find Landon standing over me. He’s got his gym bag slung over his shoulder, and a chicken sandwich in his hand. His brown hair is messy in a I don’t give a fuck kind of way, and it suits him. The corners of his mouth are turned up in a lazy, playful smile, and his hazel eyes are shining with amusement under his thick lashes. And suddenly my brain feels like it’s mush. Nobody should be allowed to be that hot without even trying.
“I’m…” I clear my throat in an attempt to get a hold of myself so I don’t sound like a mumbling idiot. “I’m working on a project that’s due today.”
“So, you’re not hiding from Richie?”
“Nope, he texted me earlier and I told him we’re done.”
“And you’re okay with that?” He arches a brow.
“I’m more than okay with that,” I tell him honestly. “It needed to happen. We’re not right for each other.”
“All right.” He nods. “What’re you working on?”
I show him the pictures I’ve drawn and am labeling for Chemistry.
“Mrs. Bowen?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Had her last year.” He sits next to me and drops his bag on the ground. “Want some help?”
I glance around. “Shouldn’t you be eating lunch with your posse?”
“Let’s see, spend my lunch with a bunch of asshole jocks—or a beautiful girl?” He moves his hand up and down like he’s tipping a scale. “I think I’ll go with the beautiful girl.”
“Umm… I’m pretty sure you are one of the asshole jocks,” I joke, ignoring his beautiful girl comment, even though deep down, I’m grinning that he thinks I’m beautiful.
“Oh, Harper.” Landon clutches his hand to his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”
“Whatever,” I say through a laugh, enjoying our easy banter.
“You want help or not?”
“Suit yourself.” I hand him a picture I’ve labeled. “Color the parts on this one.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We spend the rest of lunch working as a team. I label the parts and then Landon colors them in. I can’t remember the last time Richie sat with me during lunch while I worked on homework. Every time I’d mention it, he would tell me I should take easier classes if I can’t handle it, then head over to hang out with his friends. Looking back, I’m not sure what I was thinking dating Richie for as long as I did. It’s not that he’s a bad guy per se—he’s just not the guy for me.
The bell rings, and I jump in shock at how fast lunch flew by. Luckily, I got almost all my work done. Before I realize what’s happening, crayons and papers are flying everywhere. I wince, ready for Landon to make fun of me like Richie always does. But he doesn’t. Instead, he drops to the ground and helps me pick everything up.
“I’m kind of a klutz,” I admit sheepishly with a shrug.
“Yeah, I’ve gathered that. I’m pretty sure you spill something from your lunch almost every day, and you trip over your own two feet constantly in the halls.”
He pushes the crayons into the box and smiles up at me. “It would be kind of adorable if I weren’t so worried for your life.” Laughter rumbles through his chest. But it’s different from the way Richie laughs at me, like I’m stupid and immature. Landon’s laugh is playful, devoid of all malice. And it does things to my insides.
“Last week when you almost fell from the top of that pile during cheer practice…” He shakes his head. “I thought for sure you were going to wind up in the hospital.”
I cringe, remembering exactly what he’s talking about. Right after that, Melissa yelled at me for a good thirty minutes and banned me from being part of any future mounts or pyramids. I don’t even know why she wanted me as a flyer anyway. She knows how clumsy I am.