Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
“What?” Her smile drops a little, and I wonder if she’s waiting on me to hand her a bag of dog shit or something.
“It’s my number.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve already got that.” She’s still a little hesitant as I reach into my pocket and take out the piece of felt with the safety pin on the back.
“I mean my jersey number.” I shrug, not wanting to make a big deal about it now that I’m actually doing it. “It’s nothing. Some of the players give them to their friends to wear.”
“Oh.” Her smile is back as she takes it from me and then immediately pins it to her jean jacket. “I love it. Thanks.”
“Walter wears one on game days too,” I say proudly, which makes her laugh. God, is there any sound better than that?
“Is he your biggest fan?”
“Nah, that’s probably my mom because she forces him to put it on.”
Our little corner of the cafeteria feels like it’s miles away from the school. I can’t remember a time when I’ve felt this happy. All my worries about everything other than this moment fade away as I look at the light spilling through her long hair. I memorize each tiny feature and mannerism as she talks like it’s the last time I’m going to look at her.
It’s not until a chill passes between us that I realize someone has come into our safe space and changed the atmosphere. Rosemary stops talking and retreats into herself as I turn around and find Jack Porter standing over me.
Chapter Seven
ROSEMARY
Talking with Tate last night was wonderful, and now it feels like he’s an oversized angel sent to make my final year of high school bearable. I’d like to think my grandma had a part in that, and she’s still watching out for me.
Although right when I thought I was off Jack’s radar, here he is. I’ve done my best to avoid him, which has actually been harder than dodging his father. Nathan Porter was at my house once again this morning. At first, he stayed clear of me, but now he’s making small talk. I guess he assumes I’m keeping my mouth shut.
It was so uncomfortable when he showed up last night and my mom wasn’t back from work yet. I didn’t want to let him in, but there wasn’t much of a choice. He gives me the creeps the same way Jack does. Everyone else fawns over them, and at school I see a different girl every period chasing after Jack. He’s all alone right now, which is probably why he’s over here annoying Tate.
“You’re the new girl, right?” Jack gives me a bored expression, which works for me. I don’t want him to find me interesting, but this is probably an act. He’s the kind of guy that would think pretending not to know me would make me want him. “Got a name?”
Tate is glaring at Jack, but he doesn’t realize it. Jack might be feigning boredom, but his attention is fully on me.
“Rosemary.”
“Rosie. I’m Jack, but I’m sure you already know that.” I guess he really is pretending that we've never met before.
“Rosemary,” Tate corrects him.
I’m not sure why because Tate calls me Rosie; my grandma was the only other person to do it.
“What about Mary?” Jack smirks as his eyes drop to my chest. “Like the virgin.”
Tate’s up and out of his seat in a flash, and his hand is on Jack’s throat before I can process what’s happening. He’s not choking him, but he’s got a firm hold with an imminent threat.
“You better watch it,” Tate warns.
I stand, thinking maybe I can break them up, but I’ve got no clue how I would manage it. I don’t want Tate getting in trouble because of some asshole that for some reason is looking for a fight. Jack knew his comment would set Tate off, and he said it anyway.
“Do it. Hit me,” Jack baits, but Tate doesn’t make a move. “She wouldn't be a virgin Mary when I was—”
“Stop!” I grab a hold of Tate’s forearm before he can do anything he’ll regret, and I realize the whole cafeteria has gone quiet. “Please,” I say, softer this time as I stare up into his eyes. Tate has always been a gentle giant around me, and something tells me he needs me to calm him down.
Tate releases his hold on Jack, but Jack keeps going and tries to shove at Tate’s chest. Tate doesn’t move an inch, and his hands are fisted at his side. There’s not a doubt in my mind that one hit from Tate would take Jack down.
“Porter!” a voice booms across the cafeteria, and I actually recognize it because I hear it each day when I come and go from school. The coach is always on the field shouting something. “My office. Now.”