Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
I think back to that day almost two months ago when I asked her who put that fucking wall around her heart.
Pretty sure I have my answer.
Up ahead, a massive brick building comes into focus, and a white sign out front says IRON CROSS HIGH SCHOOL. We keep striding along, Irie on a mission and me waiting with bated breath to find out what the hell this is all about, and within minutes we arrive outside an empty parking lot and the high school football stadium.
Everything is dark and empty, unoccupied and ominous, and I’m completely caught off guard when Irie heads in that direction.
Without saying a word or asking her why, I follow behind as she manages to find an unlocked portion of the fencing and then proceeds to make her way to the field. A moment later, she stops at the thirty-yard line and lowers herself to the ground.
“You going to tell me what’s going on?” I ask, taking a seat beside her.
She drags in a jagged breath, nodding. Her posture is small, like she’s pulling herself into some protective shell, so I take her by the arm and guide her into my lap so I can hold her.
I want her to know she doesn’t have to protect herself when she’s around me.
She doesn’t need to make herself small.
“I’m sorry,” she says, wiping a small tear from the corner of her eye and half-laughing at herself. “I’m not normally this theatrical … about anything … it’s just … Lauren knew.” Her lower lip trembles. “She knew and she invited him anyway.”
“Knew what?”
“About Trey,” she says. Her pretty eyes squeeze tight for a second, and I brush a strand of hair from her forehead. “I’ve never talked about this with anyone before.”
My heart stops in my chest, bracing itself to break with what she’s about to tell me.
“Trey was my high school boyfriend,” she begins, eyes averted. “We were together pretty much all four years and obviously he was my first … everything.” She pauses. “We were your typical small-town cheerleader-quarterback high school sweethearts … until our senior year.” Irie presses her lips flat. “We were talking one night and he confessed to me that he thought it’d be hot if we had a four-way with him and two of his friends. And honestly, I was willing to try just about anything back then because it was all so new and exciting and there was that rush I got from sneaking around and doing things behind my aunt and uncle’s backs. You know … typical teenager stuff.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I told him yes. I wanted to do the three-way. I thought it’d be hot and fun and something new to try. So a week later, he gets a hotel room. I tell my aunt and uncle I’m staying the night with a friend and we meet up with two of his friends from the team.”
My stomach is leaden and my jaw clenches.
I know where this is going.
“One of them brought a bottle of vodka, the other brought a box of condoms …” her voice grows quieter. “And we had ourselves a time.”
I study her face, all the conflicting micro-expressions flicking through her eyes and across her lips all at the same time.
“For the record,” she says. “Everything was consensual and I had a great time. I’d never felt so … desired … before. And for a girl who’d never felt like anyone wanted her—it was kind of a big deal for me. Granted, I know now that I was being used, but at the time, it didn’t matter. They were all over me, like they couldn’t get enough, and I loved every minute of it.” Irie pulls in a long breath of chilly March air. “Everything was fine until the following Monday at school.”
“What happened?”
“I knew something was off when I showed up and someone had written SLUT across my locker in red lipstick,” she says, eyes rolling. “And then there were the whispers. The staring, the pointing. It wasn’t until lunchtime that someone finally pulled me aside and showed me the pictures that were circulating.”
“My God.”
“Apparently one of them had snapped a few extremely revealing photos of our night together.” She shakes her head. “I must have been too drunk to notice at the time.”
“You can’t blame yourself for that.”
“I confronted Trey about it as soon as I could,” I say. “I thought surely he’d be just as upset as me and I needed someone in my corner. He was the most popular guy in school and I knew he could call off the wolves … only instead of coming to my defense, he slut shamed me in front of everyone. He told me we were over, that I was dirty and I disgusted him.”
My vision flashes red. “I’m going to kill him when I see him tomorrow. I’m going to fucking murder him.”