Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 12381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 62(@200wpm)___ 50(@250wpm)___ 41(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 62(@200wpm)___ 50(@250wpm)___ 41(@300wpm)
Mallory.
Always getting me into some kind of drama in an attempt to make me more outgoing and less shy.
I cross my bedroom and quietly close the door, locking it behind me. Pad quietly to the dresser and remove the slip of paper I’ve been hiding in an old copy of Jane Eyre.
Unfold it, the phone number I already have memorized causing my heart to pound harder. Just the sight of it along with his name…
Ryder Williams
555-2389
My teeth run over my bottom lip, biting down.
I should text him and apologize, right?
He seemed oddly…disappointed that I hadn’t contacted him yet. Confused. As if it was personal.
I mean—it is, but not in the way he thinks it is.
I fold it up again, sliding it back into the safety of my book.
Palm my phone. Slide open the lock screen, thumb tapping on the compose icon.
My fingers hover. Tap, tap, tap.
Hey, it’s Piper. I just wanted to say
…what do I want to say? Sorry I’m such a freak? Sorry I don’t have the guts to have you come take out my garbage? Sorry I can’t look you in the eyes because all I think about is kissing you?
Yeah—no.
Hey, it’s Piper. I just wanted to say thanks for being so cool about me not having you come do chores around my house. At least the money is going to a good cause, right?
There.
Perfect.
I hit send.
Pace the room like a caged tiger at the zoo, picking up my phone every thirty seconds. Put it on silent. Take it off of silent.
Toss it on the desk on a stack of textbooks.
Check it again and Oh my god, what is my problem!
Seven minutes go by before it pings.
“I can’t look,” I mutter to no one, grabbing the phone and staring at the name lighting up my screen.
SMS from: Ryder Williams
Ryder: I would have felt better actually doing my part after the auction, but that’s not my call to make.
I inhale a breath. Am I supposed to respond to that?
He saves me the trouble by texting me again.
Ryder: Is it?
I’m immobile, standing in the center of my bedroom, neck bent and shoulders hunched, reading and re-reading his words. Not really knowing what to say.
My phone buzzes, but not from a text.
An incoming call.
Oh my god, why is he calling me? Why is he calling! Who does that these days? What the hell do I do, answer it?
With only a second to spare before the call times out, I slide the green button to answer.
“Um…hi?”
Good one, Piper. Real smooth.
A deep, masculine laugh echoes on the other end. “I thought I’d save us the trouble of all this back and forth by actually calling. That okay?”
Yeah it’s okay—but what guy wants to talk on the phone? On purpose?
“Sure?” I need him to get to his point so my mind will stop reeling.
“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I? You have a free minute?”
Only if you consider pacing my bedroom and flipping through movies on Netflix something to interrupt.
“I have time to talk.” Tons of it, actually. My roommates are both gone, Mallory is studying at the library, and Diana is at the student union working on some fundraiser for her sorority.
“Good. Yeah, so…not to beat this subject into the ground, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay not cashing in on your two hundred and fifty bucks.”
A thought occurs to me. “Is the fraternity giving you shi—I mean, a hard time about it?”
“No one has said anything.” There is a long, pregnant pause. “This is just me covering all my bases.”
“There’s no statute of limitations, is there?” I laugh.
“No. I mean, how about we call it thirty days from the auction.”
That’s sixteen days from now.
“Sounds reasonable.”
Ryder laughs again. “You’re never going to take me up on it, are you?”
He doesn’t sound put out, but he put me on the spot, and now I have to answer truthfully.
“No.”
“All right. I just wanted to make sure.”
“I’m sure.”
A stretch of silence ensues. “So, what were you doing when I called?”
Staring at your phone number and torturing myself because I’m too afraid to talk to you.
“Getting ready to crack open a book.”
Liar.
“Which one?”
I glance around, zero books in sight. “Um…a novel.”
He’s quiet. “I like to read. Right now I’m in the middle of the biography of a sniper in the Navy SEALs.”
“I’m…” I clear my throat. “I read a lot of romance novels.”
“I’ve never read one. What are they about?”
“Romance, usually.”
Ryder’s chuckle fills the air. “I get that, but what’s the book you’re reading right now about?”
“Well, it’s about a girl who falls in love with a boy from her class who’s black, and the struggles are because they come from two different places. But…it’s beautiful and I’ve already cried twice.”
“That sounds depressing.”
“The ending is depressing,” I admit. “It’s not one of those happily ever afters, so I bawled like a baby.”