Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
"You practically ghost me for days despite me reaching out to you and now you're telling me you're leaving in a text?" she continues, her voice growing louder. "You would've been better off just texting, 'fuck you, Morgan. You never meant shit to me so I'm leaving.'"
"What do you want me to say?" I snap, anger heating my skin. "I can't help it if I've been assigned to go elsewhere. You should be glad that I'm telling you I'm leaving to begin with because I didn't have to."
"You know what? Now I wish that you hadn't," she grounds out. "In fact, I'm glad you're leaving. And maybe you're right. I can just go back to my life and pretend I never met you since that's what you want anyway."
"Morgan—"
The call ends before I can even finish my sentence as she hangs up. I grind my teeth in frustration as my hand tightens around my phone. The conversation went as expected, but I'm not sure why I'm disappointed by her words. I mean, technically she's right. I do want her to move on and live her life but there's this odd sensation at the thought of her doing that without me. It's like wanting something that you know is bad for you, yet you can't stay away from it. I know that putting distance between us is for the best, but why doesn't it feel good when I know that staying will only make things worse for her?
I watch her as she snatches her backpack up and storms away from the table she was once sitting at, leaving her friends staring at her in confusion. One of her female friends jump up and chase her, prompting me to turn on my equipment to be able to listen to the bug I'd planted on her backpack the night I was at her house.
"Hey, you okay?" her friend asks.
"I don't want to talk about it," Morgan states, her voice thick with tears. Guilt crashes into me yet again as I continue to listen.
"Is it that guy again? The one you were talking about yesterday?"
I freeze, wondering what Morgan could've possibly told her about me. It was already risky to have told Morgan about what I did; I can't have her telling other people as well. Morgan doesn't say anything for a moment.
"I said I don't want to talk about it," she repeats, her voice more firm.
"I understand." Shuffling sounds for a moment. "Maybe we can do something to get your mind off whatever is bothering you. We haven't hung out in a while."
"You're right." Everything falls quiet before she speaks again. "You know what? I want to party tonight. I don't even care where we go. I just want to dance, get drunk, and forget that some people exist."
Annoyance blooms in my chest as I hear her words, but I force myself to ignore them. She's only talking out of hurt and anger. Something about her being around other guys nearly makes me feral despite knowing that she's better off with them than she is with me. Why is everything so complicated lately?
"Lucky for you, I got an invitation to a party with the Gamma Phi guys tonight. I think it's a party to celebrate the new pledges. There will be plenty of hot guys and strong drinks to go around."
"Good. Count me in. I need an escape," she says.
"And I'll be right behind you," I murmur as I watch her and her friend walk arm and arm to their next class.
18
MORGAN
The moment I walk into the frat house, I immediately regret coming to the party.
It's been so long since I've gone to a party that I feel out of place. With the current situation that I'm in, it's so unnerving to have so many people know who I am when I don't know who they are, especially when they can be one of the people who's out to kill me. Even though every part of me is telling me to turn around and leave, I need the distraction so that I don't spend the whole night thinking about Trent.
He really had some nerve. Ever since he told me the truth about everything, he now acted as if I didn't matter anymore. He's now treating me like the fling I am to him, acting as if I don't exist unless I force myself into his space. The fact that he told me he was leaving in a text message instead of calling me was a major slap in the face. If I needed any more confirmation that I was nothing but a job to him, that was it. I'm angry that he can discard me so easily as if I'm just another bump in the road for him on his way to his next job. And I'm so damn angry that it's bothering me as much as it is when it's probably not even affecting him at all.