Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Feeling my buzz start to die and more irritation start to rise I snap, “He told me he fucking stopped.”
“Yeah, he tells you a lot of fucking bullshit.” She states after blowing out a stream of smoke. “You know for a really smart girl, you date some of the dumbest fucking dudes.”
Amen.
“And the worst liars. Like Collins, his lies were usually for the good situation? Told you he was out jogging, really was out buying you your promise ring. Told you he was getting gas, really was out buying your roses. That type of shit.”
Romantic.
The word she wants is romantic.
“But Blaze? He tells you shit like he’s working on lyrics for their mixtape but really they were our playing ball. And the reason I know this is because while you were tutoring Jamie-”
“Her parents pay really good for that shit!”
“I dropped by to fool around with Eli – and we’re not going to judge me for that shit because the boy's got a mouth that could make my mom's Black and Decker jealous.”
“Gross.”
“Amazing.”
Once watched him lick chocolate off his finger only to then discover it wasn’t really chocolate.
And she’s not be disgusted by it?
“Then, last Tuesday – ironically the same Tuesday as the acid incident – when he told you he wasn’t feeling well, he was really with his idiot friends and Ava at the bowling alley. I went with Tracey – again you were tutoring someone, I think a freshman-”
“It’s the only job that works with my study schedule!”
“Yeah, whatever, you were doing that and her and I went there because she’s banging the shoe rental guy. Daddy issues. And that’s coming from me.” Before I can process that statement, she continues, “Oh, and just fucking yesterday, when he refused to take you to dinner because he had to ‘keep practicing’ for tonight's joke of a show, they stopped doing that the minute you left to play fucking Halo on the Xbox. And again, I only know that because I was waiting for Eli to bail so he could keep me from getting cobwebs. Didn’t want Tye to run into that shit tonight.”
Unsure if it’s the disgust of the new sexual information or the now exposed lies from two people I’ve been seeing, my jaw hits the ground.
“I would’ve told you some of that shit earlier, but you’ve been tutoring so much I’m lucky if you even fucking text back.”
While it is my automatic cover lie for when I wanna sneak away to be with Ry, it’s also the truth.
The closer we get to midterms, the more people cram.
And their need to cram on a tight schedule increases how much they’re willing to pay.
It’s also a very real truth, I can hide my very real lie inside of without raising any suspicions. Ry even helps me go the distance of keeping it alive by randomly asking people if they’re being tutored by me. He says it in an ugly way of course – not wanting them to think he still has feelings for me – but swears it’s only to keep up the curtain we hide behind.
But with all the shit he’s doing and not telling me about, I’m beginning to wonder if maybe I’m the curtain and the real him is all the other shit.
Irritation with both has me growling out a very vague, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”
“Or…,” Carmen mischievously smirks as she puts her cigarette out, “can have some fun and handle that asshole the Carmen way.”
“Threaten to burn his eyes out with my cigarette if he steps too close to my car?”
She contemplates briefly before denying, “No. Although effective, not what I was implying right now. Show him. Show Blaze that he was the charity case in this situation. Not you.”
Nodding in agreement is absentmindedly done.
“And fuck it, show Collins while you’re at it, what he’s been missing ever since he started bangin’ that Furby.”
“I need more liquor.”
“Thatta girl,” Carmen excitedly encourages looping her arm through mine.
We stroll back into the party and straight for the kitchen where, more shots find their way down my throat. A couple Jell-O, a couple straight tequila, which burn like a motherfucker, and a few mixed ones that remind me of butterscotch candy.
Those are my new favorite.
Those I have two more of.
The moment it feels like my “Give A Fuck” meter has completely stopped working, I grab the hand of the cutest guy in the kitchen and drag him to dance in the living room where everyone else seems to be trying to have sex with their clothes on.
Maybe they are and all the other rooms are taken?
With the music blaring so loud it’s almost soothing, I grind my body seductively slow against his. Make sure keep our hips keep knocking right on the beat. Bite my bottom lip each time the bulge in his jeans kicks in approval.