Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
I’m honestly expecting that, so my jaw literally drops open when I step out on the landing and see his car is gone from the driveway.
He left.
He actually fucking left.
I swallow, trying to ignore the sick, anxious feeling twisting in my stomach.
My first impulse is to grab my phone and message him to ask where he went and, frankly, if he’s fucking serious. We weren’t even fighting, I just mildly annoyed him by not wanting to have sex right now because I’m at the tail end of my fucking period and I felt too awkward explaining that. But I shouldn’t have to explain why I don’t want to have sex.
In the end, I decide, fuck it.
I don’t message him.
I go to the kitchen and transfer our two smaller glasses of smoothie into a big-ass cup with a taller straw just for me.
Fuck him.
If he wants to storm out like a child, fine.
I have homework to do anyway.
___
I’m nearly finished with my history homework, but it has taken twice as long as it should have to get this far.
I can’t concentrate.
Two hours have passed since Landon left and he hasn’t come home. Hasn’t texted me.
Then, I gave in to my absolute worst impulses and looked at Brittany’s social media.
Her last post was an hour ago of her sitting on a beach with her pretty, pedicured toes dipped in the water, and it’s cryptically captioned, “heaven can’t help me now.”
Landon liked it.
I feel ill.
The desperate urge to text him is present, and it makes me nauseous.
Well, message him. I don’t even have his goddamn phone number, so maybe I’m the crazy one for thinking he’s anything remotely close to my boyfriend.
But I want to reach out, to remind him that I’m so fucking serious about what I said to him. If he touches her, he’s fucking dead to me.
I don’t, because I shouldn’t have to remind him.
I don’t want a man I have to remind to act like he’s mine.
So, I leave it.
I deal with being slowed down and force myself to focus on work every time my mind tries to wander.
I also turn my octopus to green and snap a picture of it to post on my own social media account in hopes he’ll see it. Because honestly, I don’t want to see his stupid face. If he sneaks into my room tonight, I’m Tasing his ass.
My phone vibrates on the bed beside me and my heart lurches as I grab it, looking at the notification that just popped up on my screen.
Then my heart falls because it’s not him.
It’s Javi.
“Hey, haven’t heard from you in a while. You doing ok?”
“I’ve been better,” I shoot back. “How are you doing?”
“Good, just busy. I figured you have been too. Bookworms gotta bookworm,” he adds with a wink.
A faint smile claims my lips. “My head is buried in a book as we speak, actually.”
“Anything good?”
“Nah, just school stuff.”
“Aren’t you usually into school stuff?”
“Usually. Having a hard time concentrating tonight.”
“Sounds like someone needs a break,” he says.
“Maybe,” I type back. “The good news is it’s almost weekend, so a break is imminent.”
“You got any free time this weekend? Maybe we can meet up.”
My heart drops.
I haven’t been talking to Javi since things got more physical between me and Landon, but with the way he’s acting tonight and Brittany’s stupid post on social media… I don’t really know what’s going on.
I know Landon can be wrathful and mean, but he knows where my boundaries are, and if he thinks he can fuck around anytime he gets mad…
Well, he’s gonna find out.
“Maybe,” I text back. “What did you have in mind?”
“Bonfire on the beach?”
“Sounds fun. Will other people be there, or just us?”
“Just us. What do we need other people for?” he jokes.
Biting down on my bottom lip, I consider what to say before I start typing. I did like Javi when we were talking before, we just didn’t get to talk for very long before Landon got in the way.
But if Landon is out there doing what I’m afraid he’s doing right now, then Landon and I are done. There’s no reason I can’t hang out with Javi.
I don’t know if he is, though, and that makes it harder.
“Can I get back to you?” I type out. “I’m not 100% sure if I can.”
“But you want to?”
My heart skitters. I feel vaguely guilty even as I type out, “Yeah, of course.”
It felt like the nice thing to say, but as soon as I see the words on the screen, I feel a bit sick.
“I have to go for now though, gotta get back to that homework.”
“All right,” he answers. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“Fuck,” I whisper, dropping the phone on my bed like it’s on fire. My skin is suddenly so warm, I feel like if I dunked myself in a tub of water, it would steam.