Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
I finally move when my legs feel steady, standing up next to her. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car. Don’t worry about the notes. We’ll figure it out in class.”
She frowns, gathering her backpack. “We can sit on the steps outside the library, on the fountain where there’s plenty of light, and go over—”
“No.”
“Why not? I’m not sleepy anymore. I can call Wyatt, and he’ll open a side door for me—”
“No.”
She pauses, tilting her face up, looking at mine. Granite. I’m stone. Have to be.
Her shoulders rise. “I see.”
I stuff my laptop in my backpack and gather up our trash from the snacks.
She watches me. “Are you pissed because I fell asleep?”
“I just need to go, charity case.”
Her lips thin. “We could have done this over the freaking phone.”
But she’s talking to my back because I’m already walking out the door and holding it open for her.
Our eyes meet. Hers are a stormy sea. Mine are…shit, they’re cold, I hope.
She takes a little breath, straightens her shoulders, and slides past me. I inhale, just one more time, just a hint of vanilla.
“I have to go…check on Dane.” Which is true. He sent me several texts already, asking where I am. He’s home alone, and I haven’t responded, and that isn’t like me.
She doesn’t reply and I follow her, keeping a step between us as we go down the three flights of stairs, moving past other students on their way out. She walks with her shoulders rolled back, confident, like she belongs here—nothing like Camden where she alternates between forced viciousness and that vulnerable bend in her frame.
She smiles at someone who catches her eye, a guy, and he turns around backward to watch her ass. Giving him a withering glance, I continue on, catching up to her until we’re side by side.
We exit, past the steps, past the trickling fountain, all the way out to the parking lot, to her car. Neither of us speak.
She opens her door, throws her backpack in the passenger side, and starts to get in then stops and pivots to face me.
Her chest rises. “What is wrong with you? You wanted to do this. You wanted us to watch it together. Why are you such a dick—” Her eyes widen and she reaches out a hand and touches my chest. Confusion clouds her face. “Knox, why…why are you shaking?”
Her palm flattens to my heart, and I wonder if she can feel how fast it’s beating.
My mouth dries. I blink. I might pass out.
We just stare at each other, and the night is warm, and her hand is hot, electric sparks firing from her to me. I think if you tell yourself something enough, over and over again, just maybe you can make it come true. I can’t have her. I can’t have this. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.
I’ll settle for me. For Dane. For football.
Your life is so fucked up, a dark voice insists, laughing mirthlessly.
If only you’d staked a claim before Chance.
If only…
I jerk away from her and she gapes at me, shaking her head in confusion.
“Knox?”
I look away from her and stare at my feet. Familiar shame and guilt ride me hard, slugging at my heart, ripping it apart.
I left her.
I fucking left her because I was upset because she kissed her boyfriend.
How messed up is that?
I want her.
I fucking do.
But you can’t take a beautiful, soft flower and crush it under your cleats, not when she’s halfway to broken already.
“Tulip…” I push out, and I don’t even know what I’m going to say, but she ignores me, because I’ve stood here like an idiot for too long.
She’s in her car and “You Need to Calm Down” blares from her speakers. Wearing a frown, she pulls out, and me…I’m just standing there, watching her taillights.
13
“…And then Dane said, ‘But why does Charlotte have to die!’ I can’t believe we got through the movie at my house. He sniffled at the end even after I said at least Wilbur got her eggs and that means there’ll be little baby spiders for him to take care of, and he just glared at me. I swear, I think those drugs have addled his brain.” She stuffs a burrito in her mouth as we eat lunch on Friday then wipes her lips and lets out a groan. “Okay, okay, I wore my Bambi shirt when I knew he was coming over, you know, just to make him uncomfortable. Was that mean? He never said anything, so I guess it was okay.” Another groan. “I mean, come on, what guy is so ridiculously soft about animals?”
“I don’t care how he feels. Asshole Shark,” I mutter.
“I saw Knox turned your paper in early today. How was it?” She gives me a careful look, and I’m sure it was apparent in class that Knox and I were barely speaking. Gone are the snide comments. Gone are the tentative glances. Since the movie night, he’s a different person. We had this fun camaraderie at Lou’s, and then it all went wrong when I fell asleep. Did I say something in my sleep? Nah. He’s just…