Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“And why is that?” Larsen asks. By his tone, I can tell his curiosity is piqued.
Feeling my oats now, I sit back with my arms on the armrests, legs spread apart. “He raped and murdered. I can’t throw shade at the guy for lusting, though––even if he was a priest.”
“You don’t consider lust a sin?”
“Hell no. Lust is healthy. It makes babies and shit. Besides, if it was a sin, the devil would’ve come for me a long time ago.”
Everyone laughs. Larsen stops trying to resist a smile and nods. “Interesting analysis, Mr. Van Zant. Keep up the good work, but let’s watch the language next time.” I return a nod and Larsen stalks to the opposite end of the room in search of a new victim.
My attention naturally shifts to the right, as if pulled by a supernatural force. The redhead stares back at me. She’s no longer pretending there’s a piece of lint that needs examining on her shoulder. Her cat-like eyes squarely meet mine and something weird passes between us.
I know we haven’t fucked. I have one rule and one rule only: never have sex high or drunk. In large part thanks to my grandfather and his countless lectures on using rubbers, girls being after my money, and the importance of getting signed consent whenever possible––I wish I was kidding.
Kitten.
The word pops up out of nowhere. I re-examine. The stubborn chin, the freckles covering her nose and cheeks…those lips. Jesus Christ, those lips. Juicy and plump with a natural reddish color. Fuck me, those lips look familiar. How do I know this girl?
Class lets out. While everyone stands and files out of my row, I remain in my seat and watch Kitten gather her things.
“You wanna get something to eat, Dallie?” the blonde on my left says. I glance up to find her standing over me with her hip cocked and a phony smile on her face. Her shoulders roll back, her chest comes out.
I hate it when chicks do that. Don’t overstep. You don’t know me. You’re not entitled to a pet name.
“Nope. See you around, Hannah.”
“Hailey.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
She waits a beat, glares at me, then walks away in a huff. At least she got the hint on the first try. Most don’t.
When the redhead makes it from the aisle to the stairs, I shoot out of my seat. A relentless urge to get to the bottom of this strange feeling has me hunting after her. “Heyyy…”
She looks around but doesn’t look back at me.
“Hey, Bailey’s friend––” I think I may have seen her with Bailey at some point. Bailey being Alice Bailey, Rea’s girlfriend-non-girlfriend. My boy’s got issues.
She turns and when her eyes meet mine she flushes cherry red to the roots of her hair.
Jackpot. I knew she looked familiar. I smile big. “Bailey’s friend, right?”
The chick bolts. And I mean bolts. Like Road Runner style. Stumbles down the steps, knocking into people on her way out the door. I’d be laughing my ass off if I wasn’t so damn confused.
I’m slowly making my way down the steps when a small object resting on the carpet catches my eye. An iPhone. I pick it up, inspect it.
No lock code.
Dora
“I-I need your help,” I nervously announce as I burst into the communal living area in my dorm suite.
Last Monday night’s Halloween debacle was a game changer. It was one thing not knowing what I was missing out on, but now that I do know I can’t stop thinking about it. Which has led to a lot of self-reflection––and staring vacantly off in space trying to determine what to do about it.
I’m not happy. I’m just…not. That isn’t to say that I would rewrite the past. I wouldn’t. Ever since I can remember I’ve wanted to be a vet and Cornell University Veterinary School accepts only the best.
I just…I need something more now. No matter what I do the restless feeling that I’m missing out won’t go away. Thus, true to form, I made a list of the things I want to accomplish this year. New school year, new me. And on that list is a real life boyfriend.
I’m not deluding myself that Dallas is going to magically wake up and recognize me as the bun to his hotdog, the this to his that. He’s a beautiful distraction. Nothing more. A way to escape the very real fact that I’ve been stuck in limbo for years. Limbo, in large part, of my own making.
Not to mention, yesterday. Dear gosh, I don’t know what came over me yesterday. First, he caught me staring at him and blows me a kiss, clearly trolling me. Then, I ran out of class like I owed him money. That pretty much sealed it. I will not be having Dallas Van Zant’s babies so it’s high time that I replace my fantasy crush with a real one.