Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“Biggest mistake I’ve ever made, not includin’ fuckin’ you to begin with.”
“Excuse me while I pretend that hurts.” My bravado means nothing, he can see I’m feigning strength, and my lip trembles as I realize what this means. “Thank you.”
He pulls harder on my hair and pangs of pleasure tingle up and down my spine making me whimper. “Now get in it and get the fuck outta my town.”
I fall back when he releases me and watch him through tear filled eyes as he walks away, slipping on shades as he goes and lighting a cigarette when he hits the end of my long driveway.
It’s funny, I’ve been gone for so long, yet it hurts just the same as before.
“Kane,” I call, choking on a sob as the reality hits me.
“Fuck you, Immy,” he states, giving me his middle finger over his shoulder. But then he turns and raises his hands to the sides. He wants to be finished but he’s not. “You know what’s worse is I knew. Deep down I knew. And I asked you and you made me feel bad for not trusting you. You were nothing but a lying coward. You still are.”
He’s right, I was a coward, I still am a coward, but he’ll never understand why. Not until he walks a day in my shoes with my memories and the pain I keep locked tight.
“I’m so sorry, Kane.”
“Bite me,” he replies, shaking his head. “Never want to see you again, Imogen Hardy.”
“Didn’t I already try to make that happen?” I snarl back, feeling defensive because his words hurt despite the fact I deserve them.
“Then you’ll do a great job the second time around.”
I watch him go until I can’t see him anymore and then I close the door and lean against it, rubbing my chest as though that will take away the painful throbbing of my heart.
“I’ll get the gin,” Mom utters softly but I shake my head and look for my keys.
“No. I need to leave.”
“Don’t rush off.” She reaches for me but thinks better of it. “Stay. Please.”
“You never stayed when I asked,” I snap, scooping them up off the floor and swinging them around my finger. “I can’t be here. Especially in here. I don’t know how you can stand it.”
“Imogen.” Her tone is pleading but I’m not interested. I stopped being interested a long time ago. That’s the funny thing about relationships like this, people only start to care when you finally stop.
Without a goodbye, I leave. I’m not about to hang around. Not again.
15 years old
I’ve never owned a bra before, not like this. Mee-maw gets me those girly vests with the little bow in the middle, but this is unreal. I’ve never felt so supported and had better looking cleavage.
I laugh with my best friend as we try on outfit after outfit, bra after bra, walking in and out of the changing rooms, looking sweaty and disheveled from the workout. That’s one thing they don’t show you in movies, how much effort it is to keep getting changed.
I see myself in jeans for the first time, high-waist jeans that hug every inch of my curves, a grey crop top only held up by my boobs and shoulders. I test it out, raising my arms to see if my nipples appear at the bottom but there’s a fabric insert that keeps them safe.
“These are so comfy,” I say, turning every way, looking at how the dark blue denim really accents my figure. I’m finally getting a figure. Seemed unfair that I got my period before I was hit with a womanly body, but now I have the body I always desired. I don’t look like a little girl anymore.
“Buy it,” Poppy urges, resting her chin on my shoulder. We look at each other in the mirror and grin. She’s so pretty and she’s always been there for me even when Mee-maw wouldn’t let us play together. She got over that with the influence of our local reverend, thankfully.
“She’ll never let me wear it.”
“It’s your body, it’s your choice.”
“I know.” I inhale for courage and let out the breath, praying it takes away my nerves with it. “I’m going to buy it. I’m going to wear it to the patch tonight, and I’m not going to let Mee-maw hit me.”
“YES!” Poppy cries and rips the tags off the clothes before I can stop her. “No use in getting changed to get changed.”
“I want to shower,” I whine.”
“We’ll shower at mine, don’t worry.” She tosses some bras into the fabric basket and all but drags me to the till. “You look amazing.”
“I feel amazing.” I also feel terrified, nauseous, sick, and guilty, but feeling like my own woman for the first time, trumps all that.
We meet Matthew outside and Poppy immediately takes the joint from his lips and takes a long pull of the peculiar smelling smoke. She offers it to me but I shake my head. “I prefer alcohol. Weed makes me tired.”