Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“Planning period,” he calls out over his shoulder. “And I’m planning to have a little talk with the motherfucker who hurt you.”
I trot after him and fear rises up inside me. What if we get into trouble? What if they somehow find out about us? What if Dad has to move us away again? By the time we reach the office, I’m tense as hell with worry. Everett has calmed and wears a scary cold expression on his face.
“My student and I need to meet with Mr. Polk,” he barks at the secretary, Mrs. Compton.
“He’s with another student.” Mrs. Compton’s disgusted gaze flickers to me. “Another dress code violation.” Terror clutches me by the throat. What if I’m not the only person he’s done that to?
“Well it’s a good thing I’m here to discuss the dress code,” Everett bites out at her before stalking over to Mr. Polk’s office. He pushes through the door but then stops in his tracks. When I peek around him, my heart sinks.
A girl named Olivia from one of my other classes—a girl who laughed when someone called me Stripper—stares at me with bright red cheeks. Mr. Polk’s back is to us but his hand is between her legs. Her shame-filled eyes meet mine and a tear slips out. I close the door behind me so nobody has to witness this.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Everett roars as he stalks forward and rips Mr. Polk away from Olivia. He slings him to the wall and a picture crashes to the floor.
I rush over to Olivia and throw my arms around her. “Are you okay?”
She’s stiff for a moment before she bursts into tears and sags in my arms. “I…he said…I didn’t want to…” A sob escapes her.
“You sick motherfucker,” Everett snarls from behind me. I can hear Mr. Polk gasping for air. When I turn around, Everett has him pushed against the wall, his throat in a death grip. Mr. Polk struggles but is no match for my giant coach. His face turns bright red. “Get her out of here,” Everett barks at me.
I grab Olivia’s hand and drag her from the office. I’m about to close the door when I hear a sickening crunch.
I can’t help but grin. And Olivia smiles too.
It took both Adam Renner, the principal, and Steve Jenkins, a history teacher, to get me off of Sean. I’d been so overcome with rage that I was going to kill him. One look at River when she came into my classroom earlier, and I knew she was upset. Scared, even. I hated the way her lips turned down in sadness, unlike the normally playful smiles she wears. But then she told me everything that happened. I was furious. Sure, I’d heard the rumors that Sean was a flirt with the students. I never thought much of it. Never did I imagine he was molesting them behind his office door.
For two hours, the police have interviewed girls, long after they hauled Sean off in a squad car. Thankfully, I didn’t get into trouble for beating his ass. The other staff members and the cops all had respect for me over what happened—their expressions said everything. Unfortunately, sixteen other girls confided that he’d touched them, kissed them, or whipped them with his stupid fucking ruler. Including my River.
I stood by her side until her parents got there. I’d expected them to be worried about her. Her mother seemed embarrassed to be seen with her. But it was her father that nearly got his ass kicked. I overheard the comment, “What did you do now, River?”
Shame washed over her and her shoulders went slack. The guilt seemed to bring her down to nothing. Gone was my vibrant sassy girl. And it pissed me right the fuck off.
Before they left, she crammed a note into my hand. I didn’t open it until the police let me go and I was in my car.
Please call me later. I don’t have anyone to talk to.
She’d scribbled her number on the paper. A protectiveness washes over me and I text her right away.
Me: I’ll pick you up and then we’ll talk.
I put my car into drive and pass through a drive through on my way to her house. When I pull into her driveway, she bounds down the steps with her backpack slung over her shoulders. She’s long since changed out of the hideous gym shorts and looks more like herself wearing the plaid skirt from earlier. I love that the defiant look on her face is back.
She climbs in beside me and beams when I hand her a milkshake. Neither of us speak until we’re back at my house and sitting at the bar. River pokes at the burger I got her while I inhale mine.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.