Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
He pulls out his wallet, removing some cash. Then he leaps from the car the minute I stop.
I watch him run up the steps of a squat little brick house. A woman comes to the door in a ratty bathrobe, a cigarette clamped between two fingers. She tries to wave him inside, but he shakes her off, thrusts the money into her hands and then closes the door.
He’s back in the car a moment later. “Thanks,” he grunts.
I wait.
“Can we go now? This is already embarrassing enough.”
“Any time. You just have to tell me how to get back to campus.”
He turns to me quickly. “We’re, like, two miles away.” He points to a traffic light in the distance. “That’s College Street.”
“Sorry, I never leave campus.” I pull away.
“Why would you?” He sighs. “I wish I didn’t, either. And I’m never answering the phone again. Never.”
Then he turns his head toward the window and doesn’t speak to me for the rest of the car ride.
Embarrassed, I Guess
Keaton
Judd is in the living room when Bailey and I stride through the front door. His head jerks up, eyes widening and then narrowing at the sight of us. “Yo,” he says warily.
“Yo,” I echo, kicking off my boots. “Where is everyone?” It’s Saturday afternoon, and the NFL playoffs are underway on the weekends now. The house should be packed.
“At the bar,” Judd answers. “Everyone went out to watch the Patriots play the Chiefs.”
“Why didn’t you go?”
My buddy raises his beer can. “Dude. Why the fuck would I spend money on booze in a packed room where I can’t even hear the game, when I could drink here for free and actually get to pay attention to what’s happening?”
Good point.
My peripheral vision catches a flicker of movement, and next thing I know, Luke is heading up the stairs. “Gonna take a nap,” he mumbles without looking back.
I’m tempted to hurry after him, but Judd is watching me. So I wander over to the couch instead, flopping down on the other end of it. I gesture to the six-pack on the coffee table. “You mind if I have one?”
“Go ahead.”
I grab a can and pop the tab. It’s only when the cool liquid slides down my throat that I realize I hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch, and so my first meal of the day is beer. As if on cue, my stomach rumbles angrily, prompting me to get up. “I’m hungry,” I announce. “Want anything from the kitchen?”
“Nah. I’m good.” Judd’s gaze is fixed on the TV.
After making two peanut butter and jam sandwiches, I’m back on the couch to scarf them down. But to be honest, I’m not too focused on the football game. The urge to sneak up to Luke Bailey’s room only grows stronger. I want to understand what the hell happened in town today. His brother’s clearly a little punk, and, from the sounds of it, a criminal. And his mom hitting him up for money like that? Savage.
It makes sense that he joined this frat to escape his family. But I want to know more. I can’t believe I’ve shared a floor with the guy for more than a year, and I only just found out that he has an older brother. That he strips for a living. Hell, that he’s a business major. I’m a bit ashamed that I didn’t make a lick of effort to get to know the guy.
Though in my defense, Bailey’s been an asshole to me since the day we met.
“Okay. Really?”
Judd’s incredulous voice slices through my thoughts. I look over. “What?” I ask between bites of my sandwich.
“We’re really going to pretend you didn’t come home with Bailey just now?” he demands. “What the hell were you doing with that loser?”
I delay answering by taking another huge bite. “Needed a ride,” I say with my mouth full.
“Huh?”
“He needed a ride into town.”
“And you gave him one?”
“Yeah. What’s the big deal?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?” Judd is eyeing me as if I’ve personally betrayed him. “Bailey’s such a prick, dude. And he pretty much stole the presidency from you!”
“First of all, he’s not always a prick.” The half-assed defense of Bailey just pops out of my mouth that way, because it’s accurate. The dude is as prickly as a porcupine, but he seems to have his reasons.
Judd snorts.
“And he didn’t steal the presidency. I dropped out.”
“Yeah, and you still haven’t even told me why!” Judd slams his beer can on the table. “You just said you changed your mind—”
“I did change my mind,” I protest.
“And now you’re acting like you’re all cool with Asshole Bailey being in charge of our frat, which is fucking unacceptable, and that’s not even the biggest slap in the face, Keaton—the real slap in the face is that I have to hear from Therese that you and Annika broke up. What the fuck?” Judd’s anger sputters out like a dying car engine. He goes quiet. Defeated.