Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I don’t know that much about cars. Not like Cole and Bo, who worked at the shop all through high school. But I’ve hung around them enough to feel like I could figure it out. “Thanks. Yeah. I’ll stop by and talk to him.”
“And I can book a one-way to Durham tomorrow morning. That work? You can stay with us in Tempe tonight, and I’ll drive you to the airport.”
Another sliver of relief filters into the darkness that has made up my solid chest. Or maybe it's gratitude. “Thanks, man. It’s really good to be here with you guys right now.”
They exchange a look, like they don’t necessarily agree that these are the best of times. When they look at me, it’s with what appears to be some form of sympathy and doubt. Like they can’t believe how badly I fucked up. Or understand why.
I don’t even understand why.
I guess that is the worst of it.
Like Alpha Green said–I’m not sorry. I don’t care.
I could give zero shits over the supposed tragedy that is my life. All I feel is this mean, stubborn need to hunker down here in Wolf Ridge. In my dad’s house. Making him and Rayne the Runt–especially her–as miserable as I am.
Chapter Six
Rayne
I’m already having a shit-tastic day.
It’s my eighteenth birthday, and my mom forgot. I get it–she has baby brain. Her entire body is focused on growing a pup. She’s also living in a new house with a new husband who is grumpy over his son’s career tank. There’s a lot on her mind.
I’m trying not to let it get to me. I’m not the kid who ever had a birthday party or did much, but my mom usually tried to make it special. Like pancakes for breakfast and going out for dinner. And a present or two.
But this morning–nothing.
Now I’ve made the mistake of agreeing to join Lincoln and his twin Lauren in the cafeteria–I don’t know what possessed me–because it seemed to enrage the alpha-holes. Abe, Markley, and J.J. purposely plop down beside us.
“Look at that. The runt finally made another friend,” Abe jeers.
“Two,” J.J. says. “Or do two losers only add up to one?”
Abe scoots closer to Lauren, causing her to send him a look of utter disgust, which makes him grin.
I ignore them. What else can you do? They’re looking for a reaction.
“I’ll bet they go to homecoming as a threesome. That would be cute, right?” Markley suggests it, but Abe’s expression goes black as if the idea makes him want to smash the table in half.
“As long as we’re all there to watch you get crowned king, right?” I shouldn’t engage, but I can’t help myself.
The ballots went out today for the nominations for homecoming royalty, even though there’s no question who will win–Abe Oakley and Casey Muchmore. They’re the most alpha. The students at Wolf Ridge are practically biologically required to vote for them.
“You know what would be funny?” Abe’s gaze is on Lauren, not me.
“What?” J.J. asks.
“To put these losers on the ballot.”
“Why?” Markley clearly doesn’t see the humor.
Neither do I.
Abe’s lips curl into a cruel smile. “Make it happen,” he says, and just like that, I know it will go down. Because Abe rules every kid’s social life. His attention makes or breaks students’ entire school existence. If he tells everyone to nominate us, it will be done.
“You know what would be even funnier?” I give him my sweetest smile.
He ignores me.
“Watching you lose to an outsider.” I say outsider instead of human but they all know what I mean.
“In your dreams, Runt.” Abe’s smirk is firmly back in place. He gets up, and his entourage follows him away.
“That was literally the dumbest interaction I’ve ever had the misfortune of witnessing. How are these idiots popular?” Lauren asks, her gaze on Abe’s muscled shoulders.
“No idea,” I mutter.
My day gets even worse in sixth period when Ms. Landon passes the Calculus tests back. I needed to snag an A on this one to bring up my grade, but I already knew of a few problems I got wrong.
I was just hoping for a high B at this point. Anything that won’t further solidify my C.
Kringle-crap! I got a 76. Another C.
This bites.
I was thinking about asking Bailey if she could tutor me, maybe over Zoom or something, but I know she’s busy with her college classes. I don’t want to be a burden.
“Congratulations to Lincoln, who got the highest grade in the class on the test. The rest of you need to review a little more before the midterm in two weeks,” Ms. Landon says.
I look over at Lincoln, who appears nonplussed by the praise. Huh. Didn’t know he was a brainiac. But he probably went to a much better school before he moved here.
Maybe…
No. It’s a bad idea. And not because Wilde told me not to hang out with him. I don’t care about Wilde. In fact, that might be the exact reason I should make time to hang out with Lincoln. Show my infuriating stepbrother that he’s not in charge of me.