Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Cooper’s house. For some reason, it just doesn’t feel right calling it my house any longer.
The heartache burns in my chest. How could my life change so drastically twice in such a short period of time? I thought everything was going so perfectly, and now I feel like everything—literally everything—has collapsed out from under me.
“All the faith I put into him, Sarah,” I sigh. “I really thought I knew him.”
“Well, that makes sense,” she says. “You have known him for a while.”
Then something occurs to me, and I groan with everything inside me. “Oh, God. You know what I just thought of?”
“What?” Sarah asks.
Instead of telling her, I get up onto my knees, turn around, and lift up the back of my halter top. She was there when I got it, but seeing it now, after all that’s happened, will really just drive the point home and maybe let her feel some of what I’m feeling right now.
“Oh…” she says flatly.
“Yeah,” I reply, letting my shirt fall back down. “Now I’ve got to get that removed.”
My heart pounds in my chest as my anxiety continues to rise. I can’t stop thinking about the mistake I made putting my faith in Cooper, about the obstacles I’m facing now moving forward. I can’t just go back to living with him after what’s happened. How would that work? Talk about awkward.
Sarah must sense the negative energy emanating off of me because she stands up and comes over to me, takes me by both hands, and lifts me to my feet.
“Come on,” she says, her voice cheery and uplifting. “We’re having a girls’ night. Junk food and movies!”
“Sarah…” I groan in protest.
“We’ve been lying around here moping for the last three hours,” she says. “That’s long enough for any guy. It’s time to have some fun!”
She’s right. I know she is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I feel like a slug right now, and all I want to do is crawl under a big pile of blankets and go to sleep. Still, I let her lead me out of her room and downstairs into the kitchen. There is no way I’m going to let Cooper ruin any more of my day.
“So popcorn?” she asks, pulling a bag from the cabinet. “Or are you more in an ice cream mood?”
“Popcorn. Definitely,” I reply. “Ice cream is just going to make me cold inside, and I don’t need that.”
Sarah laughs and takes the bag over to the microwave. I go to the fridge for drinks, but just as I’m fishing through the wide selection of seltzers, the doorbell rings.
We both glance at each other. Her dad is at work, her mom is out with friends, and neither of us is expecting company.
“Did you order something?” I ask her.
“No,” she replies, going to the window that looks out to the front. She peers out, and whatever she sees causes her to gasp and leap back out of view. “Oh my God!”
“What?” I ask. “Who is it?”
Sarah races over to me and whispers, “It’s him. It’s Cooper!”
My heart leaps in my chest, and my blood pressure instantly shoots up to lethal levels.
“No,” I hiss. “It can’t be.”
“It is!”
“He must have—he must have figured out this would be where I’d go!”
How could I be so stupid? Of course he’d figure out I’d go to Sarah’s house. She’s my best friend; where else would I go?
I slink around the kitchen door into the front hall and glance at the front door, which has a frosted glass window. I can see his outline standing there, which somehow makes this a million times worse.
His arm raises up, and the bell rings again.
“Come on, Sarah!” his voice calls out. “I know you’re in there. I called your dad, and he said you were home. Open up!”
I look back at Sarah, whose face is plastered with panic. “What do I do?”
My body is quivering as I shrug back at her. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “I—open it, I guess? But do not tell him I’m here!”
I trade places with her and duck down behind the island in the kitchen as she goes over to the front door. “Coming!” she calls out, doing her best to sound as normal as possible. Then, taking a deep breath, she opens the door. “Hey, Mr. C. How are you?”
I wish I could see what was going on, but ducked down, I can only hear him as he steps inside.
“Where is she, Sarah? I know she’s here.”
“My mom’s not home, Mr. C.—”
“Not your mom, Sarah,” he snaps. “Mandy.”
“Mandy? She’s not here,” Sarah replies. She’s doing a good job acting, but I don’t know if he’s going to buy it.
There’s a long pause. He’s either glancing around or staring her down. I wish I knew which one.
“Do you forget what I do, Sarah? What my profession is?”