Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
I get to my feet, pointing at her blazer, that’s still wet from the spilled coffee. “Do you have a spare in your locker?”
Riley shakes her head, dejectedly. “No. I don’t have another blazer in my locker. I didn’t think I’d need it.”
I don’t wait for her to finish her sentence before I’m shrugging off my own blazer and dropping it over her shoulders. “Take mine,” I tell her, but then grimace at the bossy tone in my voice. Clearing my throat, I try again, “You can use this for today, I don’t mind.”
“But you will get in trouble for not wearing the proper uniform. Do you have an extra?”
I simply grunt in response. “It’s fine.”
“No.” Riley stands up, wincing in pain as she does. “I can’t let you get in trouble because of me. That’s not fair.”
She tries to hand it back to me, but I give her a look, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not taking it back,” I tell her, my voice softening when she pouts.
Riley is pouting. And she’s doing it so petulantly, as if she’s comfortable enough with me to show that side of her. She’s always so closed off, so quiet and lost in her own world. It’s shocking to see this side of her. To see the walls she’s built around her slowly chip away.
Fuck, this girl is capable of making me weak to my knees. I just know it.
I shift closer to her, and I feel her more than hear her suck in a shuddering breath as I start to button up my blazer over her body. Her bottom lip is snagged between her teeth, and she makes a tiny sound in the back of her throat — a sound of both protest and approval. As though she’s not so sure herself, if she should be complaining or not.
The bell rings, and we both jerk back in surprise. “Let’s go.” She breathes shakily.
I nod, and we grab our backpacks to leave the infirmary. Only to see Oaklynn waiting for us outside. Riley comes to a halt, and I pause too. Oaklynn eyes us suspiciously, her gaze bouncing back and forth between Riley and me, before she confidently moves closer to me.
“I saw you going into the infirmary, was just coming to check if everything is fine,” she purrs softly, latching onto my arm. “By the way, I’m thinking we can leave together after school. My parents told me we’re going to dinner at your place tonight. So, I can just come with you and wait for them at your house. I don’t think your aunt would mind. She likes me.”
Riley takes a step away from me, and she clears her throat awkwardly. “Thanks for your help, Grayson.” She skids away, her smile strained now. “Uhm, bye.”
She’s gone before I can stop her.
“Good riddance,” Oaklynn mutters under her breath.
Goddamn it!
Frustrated, I roughly tug my arm out of Oaklynn grasps and she stumbles back, frowning. “What the fuck, Grayson? What’s your problem?”
I lean down, bringing our faces closer together. I’m pissed. “My problem is that I don’t like clingy people.” I growl.
I’ve been trying to play nice with Oaklynn, but she’s getting on my last nerve. “And lastly, I don’t want to hear you speak of Riley like that ever again.”
She gasps, outraged, but I don’t stay to hear her useless rambling.
I stride away, going to find Goldilocks.
Because she ran away from me…again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Riley — 18 years old
As soon as the bell rings, I get the hell out of here. Like the entire school is on fire. Lila went home early today because of bad period cramps. She didn’t want to miss her last class, but she usually gets horrible pains during the first two days of her menstruation and they leave her incapable of doing anything else but curling up in bed.
So, she went home.
That means, I’m alone in this awful place — the ‘shark tank’ as we like to call it, and I’m not exactly comfortable with that. Lila has been my only pillar, the one keeping me together since I came back to Berkshire Academy last year.
Somehow, she makes me appear stronger than I really am.
I grab my coat and make my way to the parking lot. I easily spot my white Audi R8, the one my father ‘gifted’ me last year for my birthday. Not that my birthday was any celebration. Both my parents would rather forget that I exist. It was my father’s assistant who ordered the gift and made sure it was delivered, like she has done for the last few years.
As per my father’s orders, Sadie has my birthdate on her schedule, with a pretty note that says: Get Riley a gift. So she does just that and tells me with her fake toothy smile “It’s from your parents. Happy Birthday!”