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)
“I’m actually super okay.”
“I bet you are!” Thalia claps chirpily. “That’s what I told everyone—drugs? Bailey? Nuh-huh. Honestly, people’s gossip is out of control these days.”
Feeling validated, I nod. “It was just an accident. Like, you’re in volleyball, right? You know how it is. I took a painkiller. And…guess there was something in it.”
“Gymnastics,” she corrects, accepting the drink I made for her. We both suck on pink paper straws. She bats her fake eyelashes. “And gosh, I totally get it. I went through an intense Tylenol phase last year. Tore a ligament and had to push through for the state championship.”
I snap my fingers. “There you have it.”
“And from looking at you now, I also disagree that you are gaunt. You look totally fine to me.” People think I look gaunt? Thalia flips her hair. “Honestly, the toxicity in competitive academia is insane. I hope when they fall—and they will fall, we all do—there’ll be dozens of cameras recording the whole thing too.”
Smiling tiredly, I say, “I hope not. Just because people suck doesn’t mean we have to stoop to their level.”
“You’re right.” Thalia chews her lower lip thoughtfully. “Truth is, I’d love a shot at Juilliard, but there’s no way my parents can foot the bill for something like that. They’re not…you know, like yours.”
“The Kovner Fellowship gives you a full ride,” I say encouragingly. “I know lots of people who are there solely on merit.”
She snorts. “I don’t make a compelling enough story. Plus, my grades are trash.”
“There’s always hope.”
“Oh, I have hope. Hopefully, I’ll marry up.” Thalia shimmies her shoulders, and I let out a laugh. Then she turns all serious and leans across the island, a conspiratorial smile decorating her lips. “Look, I know it must suck to be stuck here away from college. If you ever wanna hang out, I’m game.”
“Thanks.” I grab one of her cookies and nibble on it. I lower my guard, even though I’m not quite sure what is up with this girl. “Everyone around me thinks I have a drug problem.”
She fake yawns. “If passing judgment were a sport, this town would have a record number of Olympic athletes.”
“Right?” I huff.
Gosh, it feels good to finally talk to someone who isn’t looking at me like I escaped the cast of Euphoria. “My parents are being completely overbearing. Locked all the alcohol and medicine in their bedroom…” I don’t add that I actually attempted to get my hands on some of those things during a particularly desperate and sleepless night. “And they don’t let me out unchaperoned.”
“You’re nineteen. You can do whatever you want,” Thalia points out. “And you look completely healthy and normal to me.”
“Is that why you came here?” I ask. “To check if I’m okay?” Gotta love girls who genuinely want to fix each other’s crowns.
She breaks a cookie in half, sliding a piece into her mouth as she shrugs. “When I heard about what happened, it kinda hit me hard. I always looked up to you at school. If you got into trouble, what hope is there for the rest of us?”
“Plenty of hope.” I smile sadly. “Even the shiniest apple can be full of worms.”
I think about the person I had sex with. About the drugs. About the way I’ve been treating my family and Lev since I got back. I keep trying to do better but feel so raw. All pink flesh and exposed nerves.
“Plus…” Thalia drops her gaze to her lap. “You’re super important to someone who is super important to me. I want you healthy and thriving.”
“Oh?” This grabs my attention. I straighten my back. “And who’s that?”
“Lev Cole.”
I bend down like she kicked me in the stomach.
She might as well have cut me open with a butcher knife and poured alcohol all over my inner organs.
I don’t even know why I’m so upset by what she said, but I am.
Did I expect Lev not to have any friends? Sit at home after school and pine for me?
I mean, that’s kinda what I did at Juilliard, but Lev and I are different breeds. He is a replica of his brother and father. Effortlessly gifted, crazy athletic, hotter than the ninth circle of hell, and honestly way out of my league. He can light up Vegas with half a smirk. Girls stuff their panties and love letters into his locker. He was voted Most Fuckable Jock on All Saints High’s anonymous gossip blog. He has honest to Marx fans. What did I think? That he’d ignore the fairer sex for infinity and beyond?
But did she have to look like me?
“Lev. Of course. Yeah.” My coffee goes down the wrong pipe and I start coughing. “I’m so glad you’re friends. He’s a good guy to have on your side.”
“Preach it, girl. And All Saints High’s boys are usually gross.”