Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
“You were everything to me, Lucas, and I loved you. And I never thought, never even dreamed, that I could ever hurt you. But I did and for that, I will never be able to forgive myself. And you don’t have to either. I’m not saying sorry for that. I’m saying sorry because you deserve that. From me. You deserve a lot of things from me and an apology is the least of it. You deserve to know that I regret it. I regret everything I did that night. Every single thing. And I live with it every day. I live with my regret. And I wish it could change things but it doesn’t. And maybe my regret is meaningless to you but I… I couldn’t go on without you knowing. Without taking a shot that maybe it does make things a little better for you. God, I hope it does. So I’m sorry, Lucas. For everything.”
I wish I had more words.
Or at least better words than the ones I gave him.
But I don’t and it makes me so mad at myself.
It makes me feel so inadequate and small.
More so when he says, as expressionless as ever, “Okay.”
“I —”
Whatever I was going to say gets interrupted by someone calling his name. Some girl who comes rushing in, all dark hair and wide smiles, throwing her arms around him. And she’s so full of energy and enthusiasm that I have to step back to give her space.
She breaks the hug, completely ignoring me, and beams at Lucas. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” She tugs on Lucas’s arm. “Come on. I have to show you something.”
The way she says ‘something’ makes me think that it’s something in the vein of what happened yesterday in that back yard.
Lucas thinks so too.
Because he glances over at me, his lips pulling into a smirk, while the girl still bounces on her feet, completely ignoring me.
Stepping back, Lucas says, “Have fun tonight, Echo.”
Just like that, he turns around and walks away, wrapping his arms around the girl’s shoulders. And all I can do is watch him leave as I stupidly wonder if she was a different one from the girls last night. I was more occupied with what they were doing that I never took the time to memorize their faces.
But I guess it doesn’t matter.
If she’s different or the same.
I’m pretty sure they’re going to do the same thing that he did yesterday.
Distraught and sad and brokenhearted, I take a step back, my vision blurry with tears.
And stumble.
Really hard.
So hard that I think I’m about to fall, but for the second time tonight, someone catches me.
And it’s him, isn’t it?
He caught me like he did before at the wall.
This time, I’m going to thank him properly. I’m going to be nice. I’m not going to argue. I’m not going to fight. And once I’ve thanked him, I’ll ask him to take me back. I’ll ask him to take me away from this place.
“Hey, you okay?”
I freeze.
It’s not his voice.
It’s not his touch.
I’ve been so distraught that I didn’t notice before. But now I blink my eyes to clear them so I can see who it is. And I go even more rigid when I finally discover the identity of the person who saved me.
Brad Cavanaugh.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
He went to my school and he used to be on the soccer team. He wasn’t very close with Lucas but they knew each other, and by association, he knew me as well. I can’t say that I ever liked him very much though. He always gave me the creeps.
And turns out that there was a reason for it.
After Lucas and I broke up, Brad was the first of many guys to proposition me. He was the first person to tell me that he wanted me to be his girlfriend. When I refused, he became the first person to leave nasty notes in my locker, calling me names and generally harassing me for rejecting him.
And for being a slut and kissing my boyfriend’s best friend.
I wasn’t exaggerating when I said those last few weeks at my old school had been hell. And I definitely wasn’t exaggerating when I wore that hoodie last night.
God, of all the people to recognize me, it had to be Brad.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you,” I say, trying to step back.
He doesn’t let me though, keeping his hold intact. “Echo Adler. Long time, no see.” Smiling, he looks me up and down. “How the heck are you?”
His smile is slimy and creepy and all the things that make me want to run away.
And again, I try to escape but he doesn’t let me go. “I’m fine, as I said. May I just have my arm back, please?”
“Still very polite. I like it.”
“I’m —”
“Although, you don’t have to be.” He drops his voice lower. “We all know you aren’t the good girl you make yourself out to be.”