Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I glance over at Casey for some clue as to what I’ve missed. Then I realize Dad was talking to me.
“Me?” I ask, tonguing burnt bits of meat from between my teeth.
“Yes, Sloane.” He takes a long sip of red wine to emphasize his annoyance. “College application deadlines are coming up. Wanda could look at your essays, perhaps.”
“I haven’t even started yet.”
“Therein lies the trouble.”
I smother a sigh. The misfortune of being the headmaster’s daughter—he wants to recruit his entire faculty to manage my college admissions.
“I’ve still got, like, two months. Relax.”
I haven’t even thought about college lately. I simply can’t handle another hassle right now. If it’s not bad enough I’ve got Silas creeping around behind my back like I’m going to wake up one day and realize my prince has been waiting in the shadows all along, I’m getting tugged in all directions between RJ, Fenn, and what’s best for Casey.
“Tone, young lady.”
“What? Why are you suddenly hassling me about college? Pester Casey for a while, will ya?”
She snorts a laugh at me. “Hey. What’d I do?”
“It’s clear you’ve been distracted recently,” Dad says, fixing a frown in my direction. “I don’t want you forgetting where your priorities should be.”
“I’ll get to it. Jesus.”
If he had any idea the Everest-sized mountain of shit I’ve been dealing with lately, maybe he’d cut me some slack. But of course, I can’t tell him. RJ begged for a chance to turn Fenn into a decent person overnight. And telling Dad means telling Casey, and maybe that’s what I’m most afraid of.
“College essays aren’t something you can put off to the last minute, Sloane…”
Another message from RJ pops up and I surreptitiously lower my gaze. Essentially, he couldn’t get much of anything out of Fenn. Some vague assurances and not much substance. No explanation whatsoever for why he didn’t stay with Casey, much less what made him keep it a secret all this time.
RJ: He wants to be the one to tell her.
I type a response under the table, while Dad continues lecturing me about my lack of focus.
Me: I don’t trust him.
RJ: Not like he has much choice now. He has to tell her.
“Are you listening, Sloane?” my father demands.
Casey kicks me under the table. I shoot her a glare because that hurt.
“Yes, I hear you,” I say to him, continuing to text. “Get my butt in gear or whatever. Anything else?”
Me: And who knows what he’ll say. He’s lied to all of us this whole time. What’s one more?
RJ: It seemed like he was genuinely sorry.
Me: Then he would have told you the truth. He’s still hiding something.
“Sloane,” Dad barks. “No phones during dinner.”
“Actually,” I say, pushing back from the table. “I’m done.”
With this meal and this conversation. I’m a pot that boiled over hours ago and is sitting empty on the stove, flames licking at the backsplash.
“Sit down. We eat as a family.”
“I said I’m done. I’m going for a run.”
I hear utensils hit the plate in frustration behind me as I go to my room to change clothes and tie my hair up in a bun. I grab my shoes from the mudroom and head out the back door.
It’s after dark, and while I mostly know these trails blindfolded, I stick to the lighted path that is the main trail toward the center of campus. I’m not in the mood to twist my ankle on a protruding tree root tonight.
I don’t get far before I hear quick footsteps behind me. I glance over my shoulder to find Casey huffing and puffing, running double-time to catch me.
“Go home,” I call behind me, pushing my pace to convince her she can’t keep up.
“Come on, Sloane. Ease up.”
“I can do this all night. You don’t want to be around me right now, Case.”
“Stop already. I’ve got a brick of burnt steak and a pound of mashed potatoes in my stomach,” she whines. “Don’t make me chase you.”
She comes up beside me, breathing hard and already dripping sweat. I tease her, speeding up when she thinks she’s caught me. Then suddenly I hear a thud and a startled yelp. I pull up to see her in the dirt behind me.
“You okay?” I hurry toward her, offering my hand to help her up.
“Yep.” She pops to her feet, still smiling, if a little embarrassed. “Tripped.”
“You should have stayed home.”
“Or you could be a big girl and explain why you’re in such a foul mood today. Is this about Silas? He looked upset when he left the house earlier.”
“He should be upset. Fucking asshole.”
Casey’s eyebrows fly up. “Oh. Okay. I thought you said you two weren’t fighting.”
“We weren’t. Now we are.” I start walking because it feels like if I stand still a second longer, I might combust. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Of course I’m going to worry about it! He’s your best friend.” She matches my stride. “What happened?”