Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
“I’ll take her, Kristen. We’ve got the same schedule today.” I see a ghost of a smile on Lily’s lips, and we fall into step together.
When we walk down another hall, I realize that Kristen left us as some point without my noticing.
“Thanks for showing me around,” Lily says softly and holds her jacket to her chest.
“Sure.” I grab the door and hold it open for her as she walks through. I point to the seats in the back.
“Is there always an empty seat next to you?” she asks as she drops her bag down beside her.
“Not anymore.”
5
Lily
I can feel his eyes on me through class. My normally downcast eyes have to fight to stay that way, because I want to look at him. I try to concentrate on what the teacher is saying and follow along as he maps out the math problem on the board. But all I manage to do is copy his work from the smartboard onto my paper, all his words going in one ear and out the other.
I give in and glance over at Ren, and he gives me a half-smile, showing off his perfect teeth. I snap my head back down to my paper, and all the numbers on the page look like a freaking mess. I hear him move his desk a little closer to mine. The thing lets out a groan, and I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling. I’m not sure how he fits in it.
Ren isn’t small by any means. He doesn’t look like a high school student, although he still has some softness in his face that is partially obscured by stubble. I know he’s the same guy Kristen and Carrie were talking about in the office this morning. The one who got the football scholarship they all were wanting a piece of. He definitely looks like he belongs on a football field, snapping people in half and bursting through walls of bodies, but even with his size, for some odd reason I’m not intimidated by him. In fact, he put me at ease when he offered to take me to the next class.
When the bell finally rings, I stand and put everything away in my bag, wondering what to do next. I know I need to find the library. Looking over, I see Ren does the same, but he reaches down and grabs my coat.
“Lunch?” he asks. I reach to take my coat from his hands, but he shakes his head, then takes my backpack from me, too.
“No, I’m not going to lunch,” I protest, wanting to go to the library instead. I don’t like to waste my money on food if I don’t have to. Lunch is a meal I can skip. I need to see about finding some kind of job or something. I try to take my coat from him, giving a little tug. It only makes him smile even more at me. His dark brown eyes are filled with humor, and I can tell what he’s thinking. No way I’m getting this thing from him unless he wants to hand it over.
I stare up at him, still not a lick of unease within me, even with him dwarfing me.
“You have to eat. You’re tiny.”
My cheeks warm, feeling a little embarrassed at being criticized. It’s something I should be used to by now, but it still hurts.
“I don’t mean it like that. I just mean you’re small and you can’t get any smaller.” He fumbles over his words. “Shit. I didn’t mean it like that either.”
I crack a smile at how flustered he becomes. I shrug and try to explain. “I’m sure you eat in one meal what I probably eat in a whole week,” I tease him, knowing he wasn’t trying to be rude with his comment. I want him to know it’s fine. I don’t think he’s used to being uncomfortable. Uncomfortable is the story of my life. I always feel that way.
“Come on.” He grabs my hand, wrapping his fingers with mine and pulling me from the class. He walks a little too fast for me to keep up, so I have to double-step so I don’t trip.
“Where’s your locker?” he asks as I try to keep pace with him. He looks back and down at me, slowing his speed and mumbling an apology. He doesn’t letting go of my hand though. In fact, he tightens his hold. I have to spread my fingers wide to fit his between them.
“They’re getting me one.” He stops suddenly, and I almost run into him, but catch myself at the last second.
“Sorry. I have to be more careful with you.” He says it like he thinks he might break me or something. “This is my locker. Our locker.” He lets go of my hand, ripping some football decorations off the front of the locker before rolling them into a ball and throwing it into a trash can across the hall.