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)
Hunter’s choice of homework assignment flits through my mind.
I know he’s intelligent, but aptitude aside, Hunter Maxwell has never opted to do a harder assignment than was absolutely required of him. Where school is concerned, he skates by. He’s capable of so much more, but he’s far from an overachiever when it comes to academics.
But for our English assignment this weekend, he chose the one that was more work.
I’m her Daisy.
If she’s his Gatsby, does that mean some part of Hunter was thinking of Valerie when he chose that assignment? Is it her happy ending he’s rooting for?
If she were anyone else, I wouldn’t begrudge her his best wishes. I believe him when he says I’m the only one he’s in love with; I don’t believe he has feelings for her that are in any way a threat to what he feels for me.
But he knows how mean she has been to me. He shouldn’t need another reason. That should be enough to kill any affection he ever harbored for her.
I don’t care if they were friends for most of their lives. If he loves me, if he had the loyalty to me that I want, her treatment of me would be enough to sever that connection.
After what he’s done, the way he’s played us against each other… I can’t bear for him to have any feelings for her at all.
I’m her Daisy, he said.
That, I could live with.
Hunter can’t help what he is to her, but...
I can’t bear for her to be his anything.
___
Hunter takes me home after dinner. We still have an enjoyable evening, but it’s undeniably marred by what happened in the afternoon.
Since my mom didn’t text me freaking out about it while I was at Hunter’s, I assume none of the PTO moms have seen the picture and shared it with her.
I’m torn on what to do about it.
On one hand, I should give her a heads up that there’s an awful picture going around in case it does get back to her.
On the other, it’s too horrifying to describe or explain, and I don’t want to mention it.
Maybe she’ll never find out. Even if one of the moms catches wind of it, they might be too embarrassed to share something so explicit with her.
If I tell my mom about it, she’ll overreact. She’ll flip her shit, storm the principal’s office, demand accountability and someone’s head on a platter.
I do like accountability, and I would like to see Valerie’s head on a platter, but I’m sure she was smart enough to make sure it couldn’t be tracked back to her. I’m sure she had one of her lackeys make it on their computer, send it from their phone the first time.
She knows she can’t afford for Hunter to have irrefutable proof she was behind it, let alone the principal.
And since apparently she’s trying to implicate Sherlock now, he might get dragged into it if the school launches an investigation. I don’t for one second think he had anything to do with it—he has no motive—but I don’t want to risk getting him in trouble.
Hunter didn’t think to question Valerie or poke holes in her bullshit claims when she came over to his house and tried to plant that idea in his head, but only because she played on his weakness.
She knows Hunter has already been jealous over Sherlock, jealous enough to take a swing at him during football practice. Knowing that, she probably knew her argument didn’t entirely need to make sense. All she needed to do was plant doubt, feed into the idea that Sherlock likes me, and that would distract Hunter because it was an existing concern of his.
I’m not so easily distracted.
I know it was her.
Unfortunately, I also know she won’t hesitate to take people down with her.
I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. I don’t want to be at war with Valerie, I just want her to get out of my life and leave me alone.
Even though I’ve spent much of the weekend lazing around, I’m still exhausted when I climb into bed and set my alarm for school in the morning.
I curl up in bed alone, looking at the empty side of my bed. After falling asleep with Hunter for the last couple of nights, I feel his absence now. I miss him.
Reckless.
This weekend was so reckless.
Before I fall asleep, I hear my phone vibrate on my bedside table. I open my eyes and see the room glowing from more than just the moonlight, so I roll over to check my phone.
It’s a text from Hunter. He must not be able to sleep either.
It reads simply, “I miss you already.”
A faint, bittersweet smile touches my lips as I type back, “I miss you, too.”
Chapter Fifty Two
Riley
The air fairly crackles when I get to school Monday morning.