Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
Chapter Four
My mom slows to a stop in front of the entrance to the food court. She puts the car in park, glances at the entrance to the mall, then looks into the back seat where Sara and I are.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you in?” she asks.
“I’m positive,” I assure her.
“I could. I saw a good parking spot. Just say the word.”
“Honestly, Michelle, no one brings their mom to the mall on group hangs,” Sara tells her, glancing anxiously at the mall entrance. Knowing Wally would be here, she agonized endlessly over what to wear to the mall today. I can tell now she’s impatient about getting inside.
Mom nods, sighs, and looks over at me. “You have the money I gave you for food and stuff?”
I pat my purse where I tucked the twenty-dollar bill she gave me before we left the house. “In here.”
“And your cell phone?”
I know my mom really must be worried about me hanging out with Hunter because the day after she told me I could come this weekend, she took me to get my own cell phone. She tried to play it off, saying it was probably time for it anyway, but I really wish I knew how to set her mind at ease about Hunter. She has such a wrong impression of him.
“Got it,” I confirm.
“Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
I nod, glancing over at Sara as she scoots practically on top of me, trying to push me out of the car. “I will,” I promise my mom as I pull the latch and open the door. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Call me when things are winding down and I need to come pick you up,” she calls, leaning back and watching me get out of the car.
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Sara climbs out behind me, vibrating with excitement. She calls a quick “bye” to my mom then practically mows over me. “Come on, come on, come on!”
I grin, sliding my purse strap over my shoulder and following her into the food court.
Although I have a phone now, I don’t have Hunter’s number, so I can’t text him to see where they are. He said to meet them in the food court at three, so we just have to walk around and look.
My mom texts me from the parking lot like a crazy person, wanting to make sure I’ve found him. I’m just about to text back “not yet” when I spot him.
Sara spots them at the same time. I hear her gasp, followed by, “There he is!”
Of course out of the whole crew, she only sees the boy she likes.
I am not as lucky. Before my eyes settle on Hunter, they wander around the table to see who else he brought. By the time my gaze makes it back to him, I’m a tad less pleased, but then I see he’s walking in our direction.
We start walking, too, so we can meet them halfway. I’m suddenly self-conscious for a split second, wondering if I look okay. I shake it off and force a smile, even though the friend group he brought doesn’t fill me with excitement.
At least he looks genuinely happy to see me. His smile is all for me as he approaches, his eyes never leaving me. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I say, my smile widening and coming a little more easily.
His gaze moves to my friend. “You must be Sara.”
She dims ever so slightly at the subtle way he tells her he didn’t even know who she was before she walked in with me. We’ve all gone to school together for years. She rallies right back though, offering him a big, fan-like smile. “Hey, Hunter.”
He doesn’t bat an eye at her casual admission that she definitely knows who he is; he already knows she does.
Discomfort trickles through me, but before I can fully process why, Hunter slings his arm around my shoulder and my capacity for thought shrinks. He’s so close and he has his arm around me—where people can see, too.
Maybe he’s making a statement. I guess we’ve only ever interacted with each other when we were alone until now, but his friends are here today and I already know they’re not impressed with me, hence his suggestion that I get new clothes.
They may not be impressed with me, but he won’t tolerate them treating me poorly, either—at least, that’s the vibe I get from his arm around my shoulder. It’s casual protection, and even though I think his friends are jerks, it makes me like him even more.
He keeps his voice low enough to make the comment private, but still playful. “I invited your boyfriend.”
My gaze snaps to him, my eyes widening slightly. “What? I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Mark with the nice eyes,” he teases.