Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
“Let’s see what Jake thinks—oh wait, he wasn’t invited,” Erika says, feigning surprise. “Bunch of fucking traitors.”
“Keep it up,” Carter tells her, his tone light enough, but carrying enough legitimate warning that she finally shuts her mouth and walks ahead of us.
Leaning in closer so I can address him without Erika overhearing, I say, “So, hangin’ out with your ex is super fun. We should do this more.”
Carter smirks. “See why I fucked the art teacher?”
“I might’ve fucked the art teacher too, if it was the only way to get away from her,” I admit.
“Oof, would watch,” he murmurs.
I grin, my cheeks flushing, and bump him in the side. “Behave yourself, Mr. Mahoney.”
“Never,” he murmurs back.
“Do we need anything else?” Erika calls back to us, halting at the end of the aisle, unsure which direction to turn.
“Yes,” Brianna volunteers. “Nail polish.”
“Nail polish?” Carter questions, looking over at her. “I said I’d buy you snacks, not make-up.”
Brianna rolls her eyes. “It’s not for me, it’s for Zoey.” She nods at my fingernails, bare of shiny, pigmented coating. “We need to get her a bottle of Longhorn blue. Duh. She’s gotta show her support for the team somehow, doesn’t she?”
“Good call,” Carter tells her, nodding. Glancing back at Erika, he says, “To the nail polish, wherever that is.”
Erika sighs as loudly as she can at him, but turns and leads us to the cosmetics anyway.
I did not sign up for supporting the team in any way, shape, or form, but I suppose since Carter is the quarterback, brushing some blue polish on my nails won’t kill me. As Brianna squats down and compares shades of blues to find the right one, she asks me, “You’re comin’ to the game tomorrow night, right?”
It’s a home game, so it would be an easy one to go to. The problem is, I really don’t want to. Not only because I can’t think of anything more boring than watching a football game, but because showing up at the sporting event that got me terrorized in the first place seems like a terrible idea.
“Of course she’s coming to the game,” Carter answers for me, his arm around me tightening ever so slightly.
Erika disappears for a couple minutes while Brianna outfits me with Longhorn-appropriate cosmetics, but I don’t think much of it. I know Erika doesn’t like me being here. I don’t entirely blame her; I wouldn’t like hanging out with my ex and the girl he’s dating now either, but then, I wouldn’t date someone in my friend group for that very reason. If I did and it bothered me, I would stop hanging out with him. I didn’t even know Carter when he dated her, so it’s not like I was one of the girls he cheated with. If she wants to be nasty to someone, she should be nasty to him. He’s the one bringing a new girl around with no consideration for her feelings. He’s the only one of us who might owe her something—I sure don’t.
When Erika comes sauntering back over to us, it’s with a sly smile on her face, the kind that belies a trick up her sleeve. She stops in front of us, her audience, and dangles a blue thong from her index finger.
“Something else for Zoey’s new Longhorn kit,” Erika offers, smirking at Carter. “Remember last time we bought these for her? I bet she never got to wear that pair.”
The sight of the panties didn’t register, but her words do. I look at them again and realize they’re the same panties that someone dropped off on my doorstep with the “slut” message stapled to them.
So, those were from Carter.
It’s not like it’s news that he was in on my weeks of torment, but having it thrown in my face like this sours my mood. I ease my arm from around him and step away, moving forward to look at some eyeshadows as a cover. I don’t look back at Carter over my shoulder, but I do catch a glimpse of him in one of the cosmetic mirrors. His features are hard as he looks at Erika, his eyes cold.
Erika tries to brush it off, muttering about how none of us can take a joke, but no one is amused.
Awkwardness falls over the evening. Cartwright has no idea which side he’s supposed to be on anymore, so he gets out his phone and plays on it to keep from having to commit. Brianna stays near me and looks at make-up, but she offers me an apologetic grimace. I’m not mad at her. Brianna seems mellow; I’m sure she just went along with whatever her friends did and didn’t want to raise a fuss.
I hate the idea of Erika and Carter plotting against me together, though. I’m not jealous of Erika, not at all, but I am aware they were together before, I’m even more aware that she doesn’t like me, and I just hate having that mental image in my head. Were the panties her idea, and Carter just bought them? Did Erika write “slut” in her girly handwriting? Did Carter laugh at the idea of my embarrassment as they drove away?