Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
I shoved my biology book in my locker at the end of the day and grabbed my backpack. When I turned around, a redhead was leaned against the metal wall, staring at me.
Cleavage spilled out of her shirt, and she had this whole aura of “don’t fuck with me.” She was exactly the kind of girl who would have a razor blade. She was also the kind of girl any guy would want to screw, so when she said, Bellamy sent me to talk to you, I instantly assumed he’d slept with her. And that had my spine stiffening.
I quietly shut my locker door. “O-kay.”
“You should stay the fuck away from Max, and don’t drink anything you didn’t pour yourself around any of those Barrington assholes.” She looked me up and down. “Then again, I don’t know what Bellamy’s worried about; you’re probably fine. You aren’t Dayton trash, are you?”
“He spiked your drink?”
She gave a curt nod, her expression shuttering. “Just trust me on this. They’re not good guys.” She took a step back. “I’ll be sure to tell your friend the same thing.”
“Wait. How do you know Bellamy?” I asked.
Her blood-red lips kicked up in a smirk. “I haven’t fucked him.” Then she walked off, disappearing into the rapidly thinning crowd in the halls.
I shouldered my bag and made my way to the exit, thoughts whirring through my mind. Max had date-raped that girl.
I wondered if Jackson and Olivia knew. They couldn’t. They’d never let the guy in their house, surely? Then again, who were they going to believe? Their friend or a Dayton girl? And that thought had a sick feeling swirling in my gut.
My encounter with the redhead played out in my head the entire drive home. And when Olivia texted to ask if I wanted to go grab food with her, all I could think about was how the hell I could broach this with her. Surely to God, if what the girl said was true, Olivia wouldn’t set one of my friends up with him.
Olivia’s Mercedes barreled over the road. She talked at a hundred miles an hour about some party this weekend while I stared out the window, watching the streets of Barrington whizz by.
I sent a text to Nora, telling her we needed to talk, though I had no confidence that she would listen. Had the original information come from anyone but Bellamy, maybe... I knew Nora was too blinded by the Barrington glamour and her hatred of Bellamy to listen.
“Anyway, Max will be there,” Olivia slowed in a turn lane, putting on her blinker. “So, you should bring your friend.”
Seconds passed where I grappled with the best way to say it...“I spoke to this girl at school today.” I swept a hand over the leg of my jeans. “She said Max Harford date-raped her. You ever hear anything about that?”
She frowned. “What girl?”
“A redhead. I don’t know her name; she just came up to me and—”
“Ugh! A redhead? You spoke to Zepp Hunt’s trashy girlfriend? You know word is, she got him arrested. I wouldn’t believe a word she says.”
“But wasn’t Zepp the one who beat Max?”
She shrugged. “Men are Neanderthals. Who’s to say what she told him. They’re Dayton. Beating up the Barrington quarterback is like, gold for them. I mean, they kidnapped Jackson and put him on your porch, Drew!”
“Yeah.” But they didn’t hurt him and considering they hated him, they absolutely could have... I’d seen the scars on Max’s face. That wasn’t just a beating; that was punishment. That was a blood debt.
“Forget about it. It’s bullshit.” I didn’t think it was, though, and if it wasn’t...I could totally see why Dayton would hate Barrington. By association, I could see why Bellamy would hate me.
Olivia pulled into a gravel lot filled with pickups and motorcycles. I stared up at the orange and brown sign with the light to half the letters unlit: Waffle Hut. What the hell kind of name was that?
I followed Olivia inside, and the middle-aged woman behind the counter gestured toward an empty table in the corner. I sank to the plastic booth, my hands sticking to the seat before I took the grease-covered menu and skimmed about twenty-different ways to eat hash browns.
A few minutes later, the bell above the door chimed. Jackson walked in with Max and Nora. I didn’t even know she would be here, but there she was, her hand on Max’s arm. That horrible feeling settled in my gut again.
“God, I live with you. Leave me alone already.” Olivia snorted as she shuffled over to make room.
Jackson glared at me before sliding into the booth next to his sister. He was obviously still annoyed over Bellamy’s stunt last weekend. Not that I could blame him.
Max plopped down beside me, practically smooshing me to the wall so Nora could squeeze in. I’d never been more repulsed by being near someone.