Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
“Never said she was.” I hoist my backpack over my shoulder.
“She didn’t even tell you she’s in town.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not her fucking parent, and I don’t actually care all that much.”
I’m glad there isn’t a lie detector attached to me or the graph would jump so high, it’d hit the fucking moon.
Grim runs a hand over his overgrown hair, looking like a commercial for an eighty-buck shampoo. “All I’m saying is she’s not yours to protect. Every time she’s near, you lose yourself.”
“And?” I sneer.
“And right now? You have too much to lose.”
Fully clothed now, I grab my bag and leave without sparing him a glance.
Cupid botched the job. He only hit one of us.
But that arrow? It pierced through my heart and stabbed at my back.
A few hours later, I walk into the Great Hall.
We call it that because All Saints High legit has the best cafeteria space in the whole of SoCal. Probably the West Coast. While it’s a public school, it’s in the most affluent county in the state. Parents and donors hemorrhage money into it, throwing themed balls and charity events to subsidize whatever their aristo-brat spawns desire.
Personally, I think it’s the ultimate cop-out. Sending your kid to a public school because you’re an upstanding citizen fighting for equality but paying through the nose to make sure said school stays bougie as fuck.
The lunch lady piles a Kobe burger with swiss cheese and coleslaw, and lime and chili-flavored tortilla chips onto my tray.
Grim is getting a four-cheese quesadilla with truffle fries and fruit. A pair of slender arms wrap around me from behind, hugging my waist.
A hot, lollipop-scented mouth latches on to the side of my neck. “Hmm. Smells like teen spirit.”
“Sweat, spunk, and crushing expectations?” Grim asks blandly, cracking open his can of La Croix as he slides his tray along the conveyor belt of the lunch line.
Thalia nudges her small body between us, grinning from ear to ear. “Opportunity, youth, and ambition!”
I call Thalia my girl-something because she’s more than a friend but less than a girlfriend.
Someone I’m casually seeing to pass the time. We have this unspoken agreement she can never have my heart.
My dick is a different matter, though.
Thalia pulls at the elastic holding her messy bun together to release her long blond hair.
Grim shoots me a look that says, I know you see it too, cum-hole.
And I do. I see it.
Thalia looks kinda like Bailey.
Okay, fine. Exactly like Bailey, if you look at her from behind.
Which happens to be my preferred position when we tumble into bed.
Last year, when Bailey was a senior and Thalia a junior, people would mix them up all the time.
But that’s not why I’m dating Thalia. I’m dating Thalia because she is cute, fun, and doesn’t mind verbally sparring with Grim whenever he’s being an asshole.
Also because she is the only girl who was persistent enough when I turned her down the first hundred times.
“You getting something?” I unfurl my fingers from hers when she tries to hold my hand, my thoughts traveling back to Bailey.
Bailey. She has no clue I have a girl-something. Things have been weird between us. Now that she’s here unexpectedly, she’s in for a surprise.
“Hey, by the way, I’ve been dating Thalia Mulroney for two months. Yup, your hologram with a heartbeat.”
“Got my own, thanks.” Thalia raises a bag of kale chips and a Diet Coke.
I suspect Thalia doesn’t have a ton of money for lunch every day and I don’t want to offer to pay for her because I don’t want to embarrass her, so I slip her favorite kale chips and soda in her locker a few times a week.
“You know, your eating disorder really complements your eyes,” Grim says in a fake Valley-girl drawl.
“Why, thank you.” Thalia puts a hand to her chest. “But does it go together as well as the chip on your shoulder and in-desperate-need-of-cut hair?”
We all pivot and grab a seat. A sophomore sitting three benches down from us shouts, “My ideal weight is Grim Kwon and whatever his duvet weighs!”
Her friend stands up and flashes us her bra. “My ideal weight is three Lev Coles on top of me!”
The entire cafeteria erupts in laughter.
Thalia perches her ass in my lap, joining in on the laughter. She turns to Grim, looking slightly annoyed. “I eat a light lunch on Wednesdays. I have back-to-back practice from one till three.”
Thalia is on the varsity gymnastics team that won us the district championship and third place state championship last year.
Grim stares at her vacantly. “Shit. You’re still here.” He yawns. “I muted you out somewhere between chips and shoulders.”
She turns to me. “You’re gonna let him talk to me like that?”
“Hey, at least he talks to you. Most people, he doesn’t even acknowledge.”
She laughs and swats my chest. “Asshole. You’re so lucky you’re hot. And a jock.”