Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 137654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
I look at myself in the mirror. “Really? I figured it was different.”
“It’s beautiful.” She grabs my shoulders and leans over to whisper in my ear. “He’s gonna love it.”
I frown. “I didn’t do it for a he.”
She gives me a small smile and pats my shoulder. “Whatever you say, dear.”
I look back at myself in the mirror and sigh. I guess it can’t hurt to try to impress him. I mean, he’s a boy, after all. All men think with their dicks. “Where are we going after we leave here?” I ask her.
“Wherever you want,” she says simply.
I smile. “I need something to wear tonight. Something red.”
She nods her head as a woman comes up behind her. “Celeste?”
She spins around and opens her arms. “Ellie.”
“What are you up to?” her friend asks as she pulls away.
“I’m out with my stepdaughter.” She turns and gestures toward me. “Ellie, this is Austin. Austin, meet my friend Ellie.”
Her friends smile drops off her face as her eyes meet mine, and she looks back at Celeste. “Stepdaughter?” she asks quietly as if I can’t hear.
Celeste nods and gives a soft smile. “Yes. She is spending the rest of her senior year with us.”
“Oh,” She turns back to face me. “It’s nice to meet you.” She nods and then dismisses me, turning back to whisper to Celeste. She places her arm in the crook of Ellie’s, and they walk off.
I turn and smile at a confused Lilly. “How about an Icee? I saw a cookie place downstairs that had them.”
She nods excitedly as her brown eyes light up. “I like the Coke ones.”
“What? No way. Me too.”
She giggles, and I laugh, ignoring Celeste and her friend who are no doubt talking about me and where in the hell I came from. No one in this town probably even knows Bruce Lowes had a daughter except for the people I met back when I was seven. And most of them are probably long gone by now.
_________________________________
It’s ten thirty when I finally pull up to Cole’s house. Deke had messaged me the address an hour ago. And I tried not to let it bug me that Cole gave him my number. Like the bastard was too busy to even message me himself.
The house is just as big as my father’s house, but I’m not surprised. I park the bright red BMW my father bought me in the front and get out. The evening chill making me shudder. During the daytime, it gets up to mid-fifties, but it gets cold at night. Thankfully, that gives me a reason to wear long sleeves to cover my stitches.
I bought a thin deep red sweater that hangs off the shoulders with a black, tank top to wear underneath. I paired it with black skinny jeans and black high heels. And topped off the look with red lipstick. I hate to admit that I tried a little harder than I would have if not for Cole. And then that pissed me off. But of course, I didn’t change. Instead, I hung out at my house for thirty more minutes, knowing I would be later than he stated.
I walk into the house, and “Fuck Away the Pain” by Divide the Day pounds through speakers that hang on the walls. Kids of all ages crowd the foyer and hallways. Some even look old enough for college. I scan the crowd for Deke or Cole, not knowing what they have planned for me. Once again, I’m suspicious about why I was even invited.
I make my way into the large open kitchen and find red Solo cups along with bottles covering the countertops. I pick up the Fireball, pour a small amount into a cup, and toss it back, needing some courage to face them once again. Then I do another one.
“Hi,” a girl says, coming up to me.
“Hello,” I say with a head nod. She’s got bleach blond hair and big blue eyes with pouty lips and a small face. She looks like one of those Instagram girls who have millions of followers—absolutely flawless.
“I’ve never seen you before.” She holds out her right hand. “I’m Becky.”
“Austin,” I say. “And I just moved here.”
“Oh, how exciting,” she says, grabbing a Solo cup and filling it with rum and Coke. “Are you going to Collins High?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“I’m a senior. How about you?”
“Same,” I say and pour myself another shot of Fireball.
“I wonder if we’ll have any classes together.”
I secretly hope we do because she seems nice enough. Swallowing another shot, I look around the massive kitchen and the bodies that fill it. “Who throws a party on a Monday night?” I ask myself more than her.
“Cole Reynolds.” She rolls her eyes. “He and the Great White Sharks do whatever they want, whenever they want.” Then she smiles. “But they do throw some awesome parties.”