Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
They’ll most likely lead me to the nearest cliff’s edge anyway.
I find the cafeteria on the map and make a roadmap of where I need to go and what I have to pass to get there. Since it’s in another building altogether, I’ll have to exit the dorms and go through another set of double doors. The atrium is right outside the cafeteria. It’s not that long of a walk or hard to find, but if I’ve learned anything, the easiest things can become the hardest in an instant.
I’ll keep my head low, my mouth shut, and I’ll be just fine. I mean, it’s not like the teachers will let another student hurt me, right? I don’t even want to think of the answer to that question. I pull my long, unruly blond hair into a bun. I used to be the girl who did her hair and makeup every day and ironed her clothes. That ship has since sailed. To do my hair or makeup would draw unwanted attention.
Making sure I have my key card and phone in hand, I leave the protection of my room and slip out into the hall. I’m not surprised to find the corridor empty and quiet, especially when all the freshmen are probably at the orientation. Still, even if it makes me late, it makes me feel safer to be alone.
I take a look at the map again and force my feet to move me in the right direction. Before I know it, I’ve reached the end of the hall. I look down to double-check that I’m going the right way and look up just as I’m colliding with another person. The impact knocks the air out of my lungs, and I stumble backward, clinging to the wall for support.
The person—a guy with short blond hair and menacing eyes, shoves past me, slamming his shoulder purposely into mine. The fucking audacity, I swear. All I can do is grit my teeth and keep myself standing up straight.
“Rat.” He snickers under his breath.
The guy beside him chuckles, and they walk away happily while I stand there trying to gather my wits. I should be used to the name-calling, the snide comments, and the hate, but I’m not. I don’t think a person ever gets used to being hated. They just simply learn to deal with it. Ahead is the entrance to the atrium.
My heart gallops in my chest, and I suck a ragged breath into my lungs.
Sweat clings to my palms like a second skin, and worry ignites in my gut. I really, really don’t want to continue down this hallway. I could turn right and go into the cafeteria, but that would be considered skipping, and I don’t want to do that until I really need to.
The double doors ahead are like staring at the gates of hell. All I can do is hope that no one notices me once inside, which is doubtful, but a girl can hope. With no other options, I suck a ragged breath into my lungs and hold it as I grab the handle and open the door. A low hum of chatter fills my ears as soon as the door is open. The room is already packed with students, and I have to force myself to walk inside and maneuver against the back wall with my head down, with my eyes on my feet, and every step I take so that I don’t do something stupid and trip, drawing all the attention in the room to me.
Slowly, as if my lungs are balloons, I let the air inside of them out and breathe in even slower. I can feel my panic rising, pricking at my senses, making me want to run out of this room and back to the dorms.
“Snitch,” someone whispers into my ear, but I don’t dare look up or back to see who it was. I don’t care what they say about me or what names they call me. I’ll persevere.
“Dirty fucking rat,” another person says, this time a little louder. I force my feet to move faster and only stop once I find an empty spot against the wall. It takes me a second to look up, but when I do, I feel intimidated.
Rows upon rows of students sit before me. Instinct takes over, and my eyes scan the room. I hate myself for doing it, but I’m only looking for one criminal’s son in this room right now. The muscles in my stomach tighten, and I nibble on my bottom lip nervously while scanning over each head.
He’s here. I know it. There’s no reason he wouldn’t be. My anxiety mounts with each person who isn’t him until the moment I spot him, and the bile in my stomach rises up into my throat. Someone walks onto the stage, but all my attention is on the dark-haired man with piercing blue eyes. I’m not fascinated with him, by any means.