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)
“Why would you want him back? I’m not even tryin’ to be mean, but he told me how awful he was to you. He knows you’ll put up with it, so it wouldn’t change. Carter only plays within boundaries if he has to, and you’ve already shown him you don’t have any. If he cheats on you with some girl, you’ll be vicious to her and try to hold onto him. That’s crazy. Alienating the symptom won’t eliminate the disease.”
My words only serve to further infuriate her. “You think you’re so much different? I literally told you he fucked around with me when you left him high and dry, and you still fucked him last night. You may have some genius GPA, but don’t fool yourself, Zoey; you’re no smarter than I am when it comes to Carter.”
Shaking my head, at a loss for how to grasp this situation, I say, “This is a bizarre conversation. You’re calling both of us stupid. You’re not just insulting me, you’re including yourself.”
“I’m not stupid, I’m realistic,” she states, lifting her chin with an infusion of stubbornness. “That’s why I’m the one who will end up keeping Carter. You have unrealistic expectations about him, and he’ll never live up to them. As soon as he disappoints you, as soon as you stop believin’ his bullshit and withdraw, he’ll drop your ass and come runnin’ back to me. I’ve seen this dog and pony show before, Zoey. You’re not the first. You won’t be the last. But I will be.”
I shake my head, unwilling to stand here and listen to her a moment longer. I can’t leave Kasey here now either, so I glance at her. “Are you done taking pictures? I’ve gotta meet Carter, so we should probably go.”
She stares blankly for a moment, then nods. “Yeah. I’m done.”
I nod and turn, walking away. “Come on, then.”
She jogs a few steps to catch up, then falls into step beside me. Her cheeks are rosy and she sighs, telling me, “I shouldn’t have done that. Standing up to Erika. She’s going to shiv me in the kidney.”
Cracking a smile, I tell her, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell Carter everything she said. I’ll tell him you stuck up for me. I’m sure he’ll tell her to leave you alone, too. You may have noticed, but Carter carries a lot of weight around here, especially with that psycho.”
“Well, yeah, since apparently she aspires to be his constantly cheated-on Stepford wife,” Kasey volunteers.
“Right? Strange goals. I hate when she says shit like that though, she gets in my head,” I admit, since she was there, too. Maybe I’m too biased to see the truth clearly, but this girl has no investment in the situation, so perhaps she sees something I don’t.
“I get that, but honestly, I think she’s gaslighting you,” she tells me. “Being a jealous girlfriend herself, she knows exactly how to access that part of your brain. She knows which seeds of doubt to plant, she knows how to fertilize them for optimal damage… I mean, I don’t know, Carter could be cheating on you, but I wouldn’t take her word for it. She would absolutely lie about that. Hell, she’d run you off the road and into a ditch. The cheerleader is crazy.”
Chapter 27
Carter drove his Mustang to school today, so I ride with him and everyone else meets us at the nearby café where they gather after Friday night games. When we get there, the place is packed. The café stays open late on game nights because so many locals come here—partially to eat, even though they could have eaten similar food at the concession stand, and partially to see the players, exchange smiles with the guys responsible for putting them in such a good mood, and extend the high of the big win they usually ushered in.
Accordingly, I almost never come here. Grace and I prefer the coffee shop, far away from the jocks and their fans—even before they all hated me, but now, definitely.
Only when I walk through the doors tonight, it’s with Carter’s arm draped around my shoulder like a mantle of protection, and his friends crowded around me like my own personal entourage.
When we come into view, a few people call out comments like, “Hell of a game, son,” and “that’s some arm you’ve got there!” No one notices me, so my anxiety about a lukewarm reception melts. They all have Carter vision, and he’s playing his role well. I have my Carter, and they have theirs, and tonight, he has to convey his golden jock façade, not the more truthful face of my boyfriend/tormentor.
I feel a strange closeness to him though, knowing I see a side of him other people don’t have access to. I hate all of this—even his arm around me while all these people gush at him makes me feel like I’m on display, even though they’re paying me no attention whatsoever. I’m the girl on his arm, and I’m so not that girl.