Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Is there something you want to tell me?” I toss back at her as I open the front door to go inside. She’s all dolled up for a weekday afternoon, and her makeup and hair are done to perfection.
My lips still tingle from the kiss Apollo gave me. It was soft and sweet but somehow explosive too. I didn’t know kisses would feel that way. I wonder if they all are like that. He’d been so sweet to me all day, not only with taking care of me when I’d gotten hurt but also in gym class where I was sure I was going to make a fool of myself.
I guess I did, but at least it wasn't my fault. The way Apollo snapped at Amber in my defense felt good. It was nice having someone on my side because when I’m in school I'm an outsider. Everyone else has already formed their cliques or whatever you want to call them. Most have even known each other since kindergarten.
It also helped that he shut Amber down quickly and snagged me as his partner. Apollo is turning out a little too good to be true. Something has to give. I still kind of wonder what’s up with Amber and him from before. This could be some conquest thing. He gets one girl into bed then he’s on to the next… Gah! Why am I always trying to find the bad when it comes to boys? Oh yeah, because my mom taught me that.
“What?” Mom feigns innocence.
“I saw the SUV.” Is she already working people over? I’m not sure how I feel about that. It’s what she’s always done, and it’s never bothered me before. Why would now be any different? Mom always goes after people with money. She never sets out to con someone that is already down on their luck.
If anything, she would give them a handout. She really has this weird balance, like it’s some kind of Robin Hood complex. Rob from the rich and give to the poor. She always teases that she is leveling her karma out by giving back to people in need. I think she just has a soft heart under that hard exterior she’s built around herself. I’m the only one that gets to see that sweet, soft side of her. Most of the people she gives a handout to don’t even know it came from her.
“This one is too easy not to. The man is practically begging me to take his money.” She shrugs. “Besides, he’s so rich it won’t make a dent in his bank account. I could cover your college off this man.”
“Mom,” I sigh. “I don’t know if I’m going to college, and if I do, I can get loans.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it then.”
We will. Somehow Mom always figures things out. The woman truly has a ton of talents. Still, there’s something off with her, but I can’t place it. I watch as she moves about the kitchen, having no clue what she’s doing. The woman can’t cook to save her life. Even my turkey sandwich today was terrible. How does someone mess up a sandwich?
“Aren’t you going to grill me?” I ask, because I thought for sure she’d be all over me.
This is the time where she would start her long list of warnings about teenage boys and all they want. She got pregnant with me when she was barely sixteen, and my father split. I don’t think her family helped her, either, which is why I’ve never met them. It’s always only been the two of us.
“Right.” She spins around with a rolling pin in her hand. Okay, this is getting weird. “Let’s talk about your nose first.”
“A ball in gym class.” I wiggle it.
“I figured. Do you want some ice or something?”
I shake my head. “It doesn't hurt anymore. The nurse and Apollo fixed me up.”
“Apollo?” Her eyebrows lift. “That’s the boy you were necking with?”
“Necking?” I snort a laugh. “Who says ‘necking’?”
“What are you kids calling it these days?”
“I don’t know. Making out?” I offer. “Wait, you don’t care?”
“Why would I care? I put you on birth control a year ago.”
My mouth falls open. “That was because my period was wonky.”
“Sure, honey. That’s why.” Her smile is patronizing, and she finally puts the rolling pin back.
“What are you even doing?”
“I was going to make dinner.”
“Like a frozen pizza?” I should take over. She can ruin a frozen pizza too. She uses the smoke alarm as a timer.
“Hey, I can cook,” she protests, putting her hands on her hips.
“Want to go to town and get something?” I ask, and she drops her hands.
“I suppose I can cook dinner another day.” She holds her chin up high as she leaves the kitchen. I fight a smile but lose. One way or another, my mom always manages to turn my mood around.