Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
If I go to this party to see her, that means no homework gets done tonight. That means I have to do all of it tomorrow, so I’ll have to stay up late again, which means I get zero hours of extra sleep this weekend.
This is why I let the friendship go in the first place. I do not have time for it.
But, despite all my good reasons, I feel guilty about telling her no. Even though I tried explaining to Janie that it wasn’t personal, I know she took it that way. Why wouldn’t I hang out with her if I truly wanted to?
She doesn’t understand that I’m stretched so thin I feel see-through, and I literally can’t juggle one more ball, no matter how much I might want to.
I don’t expect her to understand what life is like for me now, though. Why would she? She’s never had to shoulder so much responsibility. Grown men have turned away from the weight I have to carry every day.
For a moment, I feel sad for myself, but as soon as I realize what I’m doing, I stop. There is definitely no time for that bullshit.
Out of time.
That perfectly sums up my entire life right now, actually. I need more time, and there’s no way to get it.
It’s a frustrating realization. I really want to have time for Janie, I just… don’t.
Right?
It feels impossible to add one more ball to the ones I already have in the air, but every bit of this has felt impossible, and here I am, doing it.
So I don’t get enough sleep this weekend—that’s why coffee is a thing.
Surely I can rearrange my plate to fit just one more thing.
I check the time. It’s a little after 11—way too late to go to a party, but showing up now could work in my favor. I don’t have to stay as long as if I had gone when the party started, but I’m still putting in an appearance, so at least Janie will know I’m making an effort.
I’m already dressed in my “vacation clothes,” so I’m pretty much ready. I grab my purse and smear some lip balm on my lips, then I clear off my bed since I expect to be dead on my feet when I get back home.
Am I forgetting anything?
Oh, right.
Usually, I would tell Mom I’m leaving. Actually, in the past when I actually did normal teenage things, I guess I would have asked.
It doesn’t feel like I need to anymore.
Thinking things like that can only possibly make me sad, so I shove it down, slide my purse strap on my shoulder, and quietly make my way out of the house.
___
Chase Darington’s mansion is something straight off the pages of a glossy magazine. It’s in an elite, hillside neighborhood where a lot of the rich kids from my school live. They have the beach in their backyard, but homes designed with lavish pools and so many expensive playthings, they’re hardly impressed by what nature has to offer.
A wave of foreboding creeps down my spine as I park in one of the empty spots along the long, winding driveway that curves around the house. The place is already packed full of cars. There must be a ton of people here.
I hope I left enough room in case the people in front of me need to leave.
Not that I’m likely to stay longer than anybody else. I literally just want to pop in, talk to Janie for a bit, and then go home. I don’t enjoy hanging out with these people at school, and I feel like I don’t belong here already.
I don’t even know where to go. I make my way to the front door, but when I knock, nobody answers.
I can hear music blasting from inside the house, so they probably can’t hear me.
There’s more ruckus around back. A girl shrieks, some guys laugh, and I hear a huge splash from the pool.
More music plays in the backyard. I guess since people are obviously back there and no one is coming to the door, I can just walk around back.
I feel awkward about it, and the feeling intensifies when I round the corner and find a couple making out with half of their clothes off in a private cabana.
“Whoa,” I murmur, quickly turning my head to look away. I almost apologize, but I don’t think they even noticed me.
Not far from there is another piece of furniture with two guys sprawled on it, one glancing over at the couple in the cabana with a smirk on his face.
“Hey, beautiful, where are you going?” asks a guy from the swim team as I walk past him. “Not feeling chatty, huh?”
Ew.
There are too many people here. I’m not fond of crowds, and I don’t see Janie back here.