Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“That’s all we are,” I reiterate before popping a brow. “Although, why would it matter if I slept with him? I was under the impression that you didn’t like the guy.”
“I don’t,” she shoots back quickly.
Too quickly.
“But you care if I spent the night in his bed?”
A splash of color hits her cheeks as she averts her eyes. Ignoring the question, she mutters, “Like Summer, I don’t want to see Austin get hurt. He’s my friend too.”
Instead of pursuing the topic, I release a steady breath. “I know.”
Her gaze flickers to the last place we saw Summer. “After everything that happened at the fundraiser and then those pics…you can understand why she’s pissed, right?”
Of course I do.
It looks bad.
Really bad.
“I promise I’m not with Jasper. I broke off our relationship before the charity event. He pretended to accept it and said we could still be friends and then he…” My voice trails off. “Humiliated Austin in front of everyone.” I shake my head and force myself to continue. “He refuses to let me go. Everything he’s done…it’s to make my life miserable so I crawl back to him. And Friday night was just another twist in the game he’s playing. Whatever happened to me, there’s no doubt in my mind that Jasper is somehow behind it.”
Shock fills her eyes. “What a douchebag. I never understood why the two of you were together in the first place.”
“I don’t know,” I mutter. It feels as if that decision will haunt me for the rest of my life.
He’s never going to stop.
Not while we’re attending Hawthorne Prep.
After a few silent moments, Everly clears her throat. “You really don’t remember those pictures being taken?”
As much as I hate the doubt that flickers across her expression, I can’t blame her for being skeptical. If this were happening to someone else, I’m not sure I would believe them either. It all seems farfetched.
“No, I don’t. I look at them and it’s like I’m staring at a stranger.” My fingers rise to massage my temples where a headache brews. “Honestly, it would be so much easier if I did. Then I could take responsibility for making a crappy decision and fucking up.”
Instead, my memories are a blank canvas.
And that’s the scariest part of all.
DELILAH
If I’d been holding out hope that Mom would change her mind at the very last minute and refuse to let me attend the camping trip, that’s no longer a possibility. Since Duke is supposed to pick me up in ten minutes, my guess is that I’m stuck with my classmates for three grueling days. I can only liken it to being trapped in a room with feral animals, all the while praying I make it out alive.
Am I being a tad bit dramatic?
Maybe.
Then again, maybe not.
I’ve been assigned to Kingsley’s house with Summer, Austin, and a bunch of other people. Even though it’s not a good situation by any stretch of the imagination, it’s better than getting stuck at Jasper’s vacation house. Dread snakes its way down my spine. I can only guess at the diabolical plans he’d have in store for me if that were the case.
“I swear to god, Delilah Rose, you’d better behave on this trip,” Mom grumbles as I reluctantly drop my duffle bag near the front door. “If I catch even a whiff of impropriety, you can kiss the rest of senior year goodbye.” She glares before planting her fists on slender hips. “You’ve really pushed me to my limit this week. I can’t take much more of your out-of-control behavior. I’m not sure why you’re trying to force me over the edge, but trust me, I’m already there.” Her voice wobbles on the last syllable.
Even though it’s tempting to argue, I find myself saying, “I’m sorry, Mom.” The last thing I want to do is cause her any more grief or heartache. She’s been through more than enough.
Instead of accepting my apology and softening her stance, she swings around and stalks to her bedroom without another word. Just as I’m about to turn away, resigning myself to the thick tension that’s now a part of our relationship, she wheels out a small red suitcase.
My brows pinch together, thrown off by this new development. She never mentioned a word about taking off for the weekend. “Are you going somewhere?”
She stops in her tracks as a scowl settles over her pinched features. “That’s none of your business. It’s high time you start remembering that you’re the child and I’m the parent. Unlike you, I don’t need to ask for permission.”
Every conversation with her feels like a battle and I hate it. I have enough to contend with at school. Instead of home being a safe refuge, it’s the furthest thing from it.
“I know,” I say with a sigh. “It’s just that you didn’t mention anything about going away for the weekend.”