Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“You’re more his type.”
“I know. I know.” He shakes his head. “But I don’t feel that way anymore. You both are a part of the Donovans. We’re all a family now.”
I give him a smile, wanting to believe that. It’s sweet.
Too bad the last thing I want to be with Dunc is family. But I’ll fake it until I can make it. That’s the way it has to be.
CHAPTER 13
DUNCAN
“Help you do what?” I stare at Scully, a senior who is best known for his kill book, which is an actual notebook where he documents all the virgins he’s had sex with. He rates them on a scale of one to ten. I know this only because he sits next to me in Ancient Civilizations. I don’t engage with him, but my lack of response doesn’t deter him any. He just blabbers on and on. I took—I mean, we all take—Ancient Civ because the teacher just shows movies and YouTube videos during class. Our tests consist of watching these same videos and then writing down key points from them.
It’s a no-brainer class that has occasional interesting moments. The stuff about Herculaneum in Italy was cool as fuck. It was covered in ash from the Vesuvius eruption, and the ash protected it from looting and weather. When it was discovered, whole wood beds and even paper scrolls were intact. So not everything in this class is a waste, but that made Scully even more annoying because he’d keep talking even during stuff that was cool like the videos on Herculaneum.
Now he’s saying he needs me to help him fix some prop for the theater because the lead is a sophomore that he’s been trying to bed for three weeks, and she keeps telling him no.
“You build shit, right? With your dad?”
I don’t tell him that it’s Uncle Coop now because that’s just too much of a hassle. “I’ve never built a stage prop, and I need to meet S—someone for lunch.” No need to put Sadie on this asshole’s radar.
“But you have Home Ec next period with Mrs. Mannon. She won’t care if you skip out to do some work on the play.”
I don’t like Scully much. I have no intention of helping him get in some girl’s pants. I also don’t care about the play, but building something is a lot more interesting to me than baking cookies. “Fine.”
“Great.” Scully slaps me on the back. “It’ll be fun.”
The props look like they were made by preschoolers. Screws aren’t countersunk into the wood, which means people could trip or tear their clothes or, worse, their skin on a protruding fastener. No one seemed to use a level when building a riser as it’s visibly listing to the left. Some of the ropes used to raise and lower different items onto the stage look frayed and old.
“This place is a hazard.” I make a mental note never to allow Sadie in here. “Who’s in charge?”
“Coach Ingle,” says the girl under Scully’s arm. “But he’s never here because it’s football season, so we have to make do on our own.”
I shake my head. “Where are the tools?”
The girl directs me to a storage room. I hook a tool belt around my waist and get to work. The girl and Scully sit in the second row of the theater seats making eyes at each other. It doesn’t look like Scully needed my help in getting the girl interested; he just needed someone to do the work for him. I flip the hammer in my hand a couple of times and decide that I’ll just fix a few things before I go see Sadie.
“Tell me when it’s ten to the hour,” I instruct Scully. He salutes me, and I get to work. The time goes by pretty fast, and before I know it, Scully is telling me that it’s time.
“Just put the tool belt back in the storeroom,” the girl says to me.
“Oh shit, my phone is dead,” Scully says. “Bro, let me use your phone to text my dad. He’s supposed to pick up flowers for Mom today because it’s her birthday. I was supposed to remind him.”
I glance toward the girl. Use her phone, I telegraph.
“It’s just for a minute,” he whines.
Fuck me. I need to put these tools away and then haul ass to meet Sadie for lunch. “Fine.” I toss him the phone and then walk to the storage room. The door shuts behind me as I hang the belt up on the back wall and place the hammer, measuring tape, and screwdrivers on the shelf. My task completed, I turn to leave, but the door doesn’t budge. I jiggle the doorknob, but it only turns about halfway. “What the hell?” I pound on the door. “Scully, something’s blocking the door.”
Silence greets me. I pound harder and yell louder, but still nothing. That prick. When I get out of here, I’m going to take his kill book and shove it down his throat. I turn back and grab the hammer. The hinges are on the inside so it’s easy enough to remove the door, but it takes time, and when I finally heave the heavy wooden thing to the side, it’s nearly quarter after. My phone is lying on the edge of the stage. I pick it up and shoot a message to Sadie.