Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
“Drake doesn't have a date either,” Mom says, waving her hand dismissively at my excuse. “I don't think people have dates for Homecoming anymore. Everyone just goes as a group from what I’ve heard.” She nods her head in agreement with herself and it’s kind of adorable.
She’s half right; most people are going stag or in groups. The boys and girls at school jump from dating one person to another and I can't keep up with them all. I’ve taken one too many biology classes and got it in my head that making out with even one person from my school would be like making out with all of them. God knows the kind of germs I’d get so I keep my mouth to myself.
As for Drake, I don’t get in his business with what or who he’s doing because it’s better that way. At school I stay out of his way and he stays out of mine. We’ve become like oil and water since high school. If we keep clear of each other we don’t have a chance to fight, which is something our parents hate. That’s the one thing we have in common—we don’t like upsetting either one of them.
It’s pretty easy to keep our distance. Our school is big and we hang in different crowds. He’s always with the jocks while I go between my swim team and what’s referred to as the Gifts, the nickname for the Gifted and Talented. We’re the group that’s usually in the library and takes all the AP classes we can. I’ve been with them more lately since swim is over for the season and I’m not trying to get on a college team. The changes in my body didn’t help make me a better swimmer, and though I always enjoy it, I don’t want to swim competitively anymore. Since that chunk of time is free, I’ve spent it putting all of my focus into my classes.
I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit Drake had a small part in me not wanting to swim anymore. He schooled me one day when he jumped into the pool and pretty much swam laps around me. He didn’t even have to try to beat me, it was so easy for him. It wounded my pride, not that I ever let him know it. Swimming was never my passion, just something I did to put on my college applications. Yet it still stings that he picks at me in small ways. I try and let it roll off me and show that I don’t care, but like right now with Mom reading my face, everything always shows. I’m not great at hiding my emotions, but I still try.
A saleslady pops her head into the dressing room. “I’ve got more,” she says in a chipper voice.
Mom walks over and takes the dresses from her as I try to get out of the one I stuffed myself into. My phone dings from inside my bag and I almost trip over the bottom of the dress trying to get to it. Mom laughs at me while helping me get it off before I snag my phone and see Lindsey sent me a text from the food court. I’m supposed to meet her there after dress shopping.
It’s a picture of Drake sitting with Liam. She’s utterly in love with Liam, but I’m not sure he notices. He’s mute—by choice, because I’ve heard him mutter a handful of words when he’s saying hello back to my mom to be polite. It’s probably why he and Drake get along so well. They’re both assholes that can’t be bothered.
Lindsey: Please?
She texts knowing I don’t want to hang out with Drake, but if I did it would give her a reason to be near Liam. I think she enjoys trying to get him to talk. I swear hearts dance over her head when he grunts. Lindsey is the only one who ever remembers Drake is my stepbrother. Everyone always forgets because that’s how wide of a berth we give each other.
When we pass each other in the hallways we don’t give the other a second look. It’s sad when I think about it. He used to be my whole world but now when I look at him I only get angry. It’s irrational and I don’t understand it, so I avoid him. It’s what I’m best at.
Lindsey: I’ll owe you.
I glance to the new pile of dresses, knowing I’ll cave. “Twenty more minutes. I’m supposed to meet David for date night,” Mom says, already knowing what I’m going to ask.
Me: Fine. See you in twenty.
She’s going to owe me big time for this one.
“Lindsey?” Mom asks as she shuffles through the new stack of dresses.
“Yeah, we’re meeting in the food court.” I have a love-hate relationship with the food court. They have the best food, but I also know a lot of people from school will be there. I’m surprised I haven't run into someone already, but that’s probably because Mom reserved a dressing room for just her and me.