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 think Grayson has realized that I’m avoiding him, so he’s keeping his distance. We still sit next to each other in our AP Calculus and Law Studies classes. But we don’t talk, even though I always feel his eyes on me, burning into my skin.
Grayson is not intimidating, but his undivided attention scares me. Not in a bad, frightening way. But it unnerves me, because I don’t want to make of it.
I know he’s not judging me, because his gaze is always watching me with warm curiosity. Studying me closely, like I am some kind of enigmatic puzzle to him.
I don’t quite understand my reasoning behind purposely avoiding him. Maybe it has to do with the way he makes me feel. Warm and seen.
Except, I can’t exactly put into words what I am feeling.
It’s a foreign emotion, a mystery, even to me.
I’m dying to know, to understand my own feelings. But I am afraid to find out what it would mean to me — to him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Grayson— 17 years old
I’m not really stalking Riley.
I’d say, I’m just merely keeping an eye on her.
Because trouble follows Goldilocks everywhere she goes, and that triggers my protective instincts. I’ve never felt protective over anyone else, other than Naomi.
My sister was the only one capable of making me go haywire, if anyone ever dared to hurt her. But Riley — she’s making me feel things I’ve never felt before.
Except, she’s been avoiding me.
When I saw her on the first day, smiling prettily up at her friend, I had considered myself lucky. I didn’t think she’d treat me like a stranger though.
That’s unfortunate.
But I have an inkling as to why she’s avoiding me.
After watching her for weeks, I’ve realized that Riley has built up a wall around her. A wall that only Lila Garcia is allowed through. Riley keeps everyone else at an arm’s-length.
I don’t blame her though. They treat her like trash, and I can see the life diminishing in her eyes every time someone throws an insult at her. They are unnecessarily cruel, simply for the sake of being spiteful.
So, I see why she’s avoiding me.
Riley doesn’t trust anyone.
She doesn’t trust me.
And I understand that.
Because fate has always been brutal to me; vicious in ways that I’ve long lost trust in everything and everyone. When something strangely good happens to me, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it always does.
Everything good that occurs is followed by something dreadfully unpleasant.
But Riley…
There’s something about her that calls to me.
It’s the longing in her eyes; it speaks to me because I see my own reflection in them. A yearning for something that we don’t quite understand.
So, I stand there, watching her in the coffee shop as she orders her morning coffee. Making sure to stay out of her sight because I don’t want her to think I’m a creepy stalker.
I know my size can be frightening, but I never want to give Riley a reason to fear me.
She grabs her coffee and walks out, hefting her backpack over her shoulders. Riley has earphones in, and she’s scrolling through her phone.
And because I’m watching her, I notice it before she does.
The bicycle coming toward her.
Riley is right in the middle of the sidewalk, and I lurch forward. Trying to pull her back to safety. But it happens so quickly and I’m too far away to reach her in time.
“Watch out!” I call out, my blood roaring in my ears.
Riley looks up, and her eyes widen in alarm. Her reflex is fast, and she jerks back, just in time to escape being hit by the bike. But the motion has her teetering over her feet. She has her coffee in one hand and her phone in the other, and I know she can’t stabilize herself.
Riley loses her balance, and I wince as she crashes hard onto the sidewalk.
“Fuck.” I rush to her, as the rider doesn’t even bother to stop and see if she’s alright. “Watch where you’re going,” I bellow after him, anger pumping through my veins.
She could have seriously been hurt.
I squat down next to Riley. “Shit, are you okay?”
Her coffee is spilled all over the sidewalk, and on her blazer. Riley looks down at the mess in mortification and doesn’t meet my eyes. “Y-yeah,” she stutters.
“You’ve scratched up your knee.” Her black leggings are torn around the knees, and I can see the bloody scrapes. There’s bits and pieces of gravel stuck in her skin.
“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt,” she says, her voice soft and weary.
Lies.
Riley winces when she tries to stand up, releasing a hiss of pain under her breath.
“Way to go, Riley. Clumsy and stupid,” she mutters to herself, quiet enough I almost miss it. I grab her elbow and help her to her feet. She wobbles a bit before finding her footing.