Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
He laughed again, his arm coming down around my shoulders, and scanned the room. He had come in with a few others. I recognized them from his fraternity. They were doing handshakes and shoulder pounding with a few other guys. I looked around, seeing Miles in the corner. He saw me looking and jerked his chin up in a greeting. He was talking to a few girls.
Darren was on the couch, controller in hand. He was playing the new FIFA game with another guy.
Wade was coming down the stairs. Seeing me looking his way, he gave me a chin-lift too. “What’s up, Daniels?” He came over, saying hello to who was eyeing him back. “What’s up, man?”
“Hey.” Gavin’s greeting was less enthusiastic, but his arm fell from my shoulders. He was looking from Wade to me, a twinge of suspicion in his gaze, but he just smiled. “I need beer.”
Wade laughed, but as soon as Gavin was gone, he moved so his back was to the rest of the room. “How are you?”
Oh, boy. The way he was looking at me, and how he asked that question–he wanted a real answer.
I started to edge back when a girl came over. She linked her elbow with Wade’s, her hip bumping his. “Wade! I didn’t know you’d be here.”
He gave her a slight frown. “I live here, so…”
She laughed, tossing some of her hair behind her shoulder. “That’s right. I forgot. How are you?” She placed a hand on his chest, and the maneuver put her closer to him and with her back to me. It was obvious what she wanted.
I looked over her head to him, and he was half smiling at her, but half looking my way.
I moved back, raising my drink in a greeting.
He gave me a small nod back.
From there, I made my way to the dining room table. They had a long one, enough where sixteen people could sit around it. Miles said that it came with the house, and moving into the dining room, the sound was a little quieter in there. The rooms were all sectioned off in the house. There was no big open layout. The living room had a doorway that went into the long dining room, and if you traveled the length of the room, there was a doorway at the opposite end that went to the kitchen. On the other side of the dining room wall connected to where the living room and kitchen had their own doorway. I went in there, dropped my stuff at a seat, and sat down. A few others were in there too, a few girls, and a couple guys.
“Hey. You’re Skylar and Zoe’s new roommate?” One of the girls pointed to the ceiling with her pen. “The one who has the attic apartment?”
“Yeah. Hi.”
She used the pen to point to herself. “Jessica. You’re Mara?”
I nodded.
Jessica pointed to the other two girls. “That’s Allie and Hawah.”
Both nodded and waved.
They were all in sweats and T-shirts, their hair pulled up in messy buns. I was guessing they were upperclassmen, like Skylar and Zoe. It was also in their relaxed attitudes. Freshman girls were different at parties. They were dressed up, or in jeans, and there was an edge of uncertainty, desperation to them or they went the opposite route of being so confident that they came off like know-it-alls. They weren’t all like that, but I partied enough to tell. The other two at the table were guys, and both gave me a small nod.
“I’m Derrick.”
The other guy waved his pen toward me. “Yo. I’m Martin.”
I said hello to both.
Skylar popped her head into the room. “First pizzas are done. You guys want dibs before we let the others know?”
The chairs were pushed back, and the girls went first.
The guys were after that. Martin lingered, asking me, “You want a piece? I can grab you one.”
I shook my head. “Not hungry. I’ll grab one later.”
“You sure?” He jerked a thumb toward the other room. “Darren and the others will eat everything in that kitchen when they’re let in. Football players are insatiable.” He was smirking at me, and I knew who he was connected to now.
“You’re on the team?”
His smile widened. “Yep. Running back.”
“Martin,” came from the kitchen.
He glanced in and back to me. “Last chance. One slice?”
I laughed but raised my drink. “I’m good for now. Promise.”
“Okay.” He disappeared inside as one of the girls was coming back, her plate piled high with pizza. She sat down at her spot, putting her drink next to her plate. “Not hungry?”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
She gave me a once-over, what she could see of me, and her top lip curled up. “You don’t have an eating disorder, do you?”
I gave her the same once-over, my lip curving up too. “No. Do you?”