Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
The girl follows my gaze. “Um. Are you talking about Drew Colter?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.” I point, knowing full well it’s rude. “That guy.”
Her eyes get wide. “That’s Drew Colter.”
“So?”
“So? He’s like, huge.”
I mean, obviously. “Yeah, he doesn’t fit very well.”
“No, I mean—huge. Like. The Colter brothers are legends. Gods. Can do no wrong.”
Rolling my eyes, I made toward the door. “See, that’s the problem with society these days, worshipping false gods. I honestly don’t give a shit who Drew Colter thinks he is. He’s rude and distracting, and if he can’t sit still through a class, he shouldn’t be here.”
“But…” The girl tags along behind me, floundering. “But it’s Drew Colter.”
“Drew who?”
“Colter?” she repeats for a third time, her eyes taking on a mystified expression, half dazed as if she’s been bitten by a love bug. “He’s like…super nice.”
Super nice?
In what world is the guy who was sitting behind me nice? He was rude and inconsiderate, showing no glimpse of having any manners.
I scoff. “Drew Colter can kiss my ass. He’s a dick.” Pausing before heading back to a new seat, I turn to this girl determined to chat me up. “What did you say your name was?”
“Isabelle.”
A sweet-sounding name. “Let me give you some friendly advice, Isabelle. Just because everyone else hero worships a guy does not make him a decent person. No one even knows him.”
“You don’t know that he isn’t a decent person,” she argues. “Maybe he’s having a bad day.”
Maybe.
However. “All I’m saying is he may be good looking and popular, but that doesn’t mean I have to tolerate his bad behavior.”
Isabelle’s face scrunches up, and I can see that she’s confused. “All he did was kick the back of your seat because he doesn’t have enough room.”
Clearly, Isabelle is drinking the Colter brother Kool-Aid; this argument isn’t worth my time when we have to be in our seats, like—now.
I’ve had enough of her arguments in favor of a boy she obviously does not know personally.
“Welp.” I nod at her. Tipping my proverbial hat, if you will. “Good to meet you.”
And when I go back into the auditorium, I accidentally make eye contact with Drew, that giant, rude brute.
He cocks an eyebrow.
I stick my nose in the air and pivot, stalking to a seat in the opposite direction.
six
drake
I don’t have one-night stands. I have auditions—and you’re not getting a callback.
“That class was a literal shit show.”
I’m dumping chicken and pasta onto my dinner plate, unloading my evening drama onto the brother who sent me to academic purgatory, unarmed with all the information necessary.
The professor being a douche: could have warned me about that.
Bitchy classmates with zero tolerance.
Granted, Drew can sit still better than I, but a bit of compassion for my boredom leg jiggle would have been swell.
Anywho.
“You might have mentioned that already.”
I hold the wooden spoon I just used to serve noodles in the air, brandishing it about for dramatic flair.
Drew can’t be bothered to even patronize me for one second even though it’s his twin duty to do so by birth! He was literally put on this earth to tolerate my bullshit and vice versa.
“Then there was this chick riding my ass about being rude because I was talking.”
“Oh, really—another one?”
My brows go up. “Another one? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Dude, you literally came home the other day and said some girl was pissed that you were flopping your pencil around. Was it the same person?”
“No.”
“Then who is the common denominator here?”
“Me?”
“Bingo.” He snaps his fingers. “Maybe you’re the one actin’ like the little bee-yotch.”
I’m affronted. Honestly insulted.
My only brother.
Okay fine, not my only brother—there are four of us—but the only one who shares my birthday, face, hair, voice. You would think that automatically means he has to take my side, but no. The giant jackass continues to suggest I’m difficult.
“What are you tryin’ to say?”
“I’m not trying to say anything. I’m telling you, maybe you act like a jackass in class, and it’s not the girls. It’s you.”
I suck in a breath. “Can we change the subject?”
Drew rolls his eyes, forking chicken off his plate and stuffing it in his mouth. “By all means.”
“I decided to create a datin’ profile for you.”
He chokes, the chunk a blob of half-chewed mush plopping down onto his plate in an inelegant fashion. His arm waves around his face theatrically as he launches himself into a coughing fit.
“Gross, dude.” My face twists in disgust. “Stop bein’ dramatic.”
“You.” Cough. “Should.” Cough. “Be.” Cough. “The one.” Cough cough. “To talk.”
I’m not impressed. “Are you done?”
He nods.
“And don’t you dare put that chunk back in your mouth.”
My twin purses his lips. “I wasn’t going to.”
I’m not sure if I believe him. “So as I was saying before you started hackin’ up your lung, I’m downloadin’ a dating app for you, and I’m gonna manage it.”