Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
He pulls away from me and leaves me there while he disappears into the bathroom. I can hear him cleaning himself up, and when he returns, he uses a hand towel to wipe between my legs. I allow him to do this even though it feels like the first step to a dreaded goodbye.
Tension has returned to his body, and the deafening silence is almost crippling when he retreats and begins to dress. I wait for something from his lips. Anything. But the only thing he leaves is a card on the desk. My pride won’t let me ask him to stay, and his already has him walking out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
STELLA
AFTER I MANAGED to put myself back together again, I took the car service, courtesy of the card he left on the desk. Back at the dorms, I curl up in my bed and don’t leave again until Sybil comes bounding in on Sunday afternoon.
“Are you okay?” she demands, eyeballing the mess that is my hair.
“I’m good,” I lie.
She sighs and sits down beside me. “Stella, I know about your dad.”
“Your parents told you?”
She nods. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe he would just leave you like that.”
She doesn’t say anything about the crime he committed, and for that, at least, I can be grateful.
“I guess I’m pretty much on my own now,” I say.
“You aren’t on your own.” She offers me a sad smile. “You have me. And I can always help you with whatever you need.”
“Thanks.” I force a smile in return. “I appreciate that.”
Silence descends over us, and she seems to consider something for a moment. “When you said you were doing that creative writing assignment, that wasn’t really about you, was it?”
The shame I feel inside is too awful to bear, and as much as I want to, I can’t lie to Sybil again. But it turns out I don’t need to because it’s written all over my face.
“Oh my God, Stella. You didn’t do something crazy, did you? Is that why you wanted to stay behind this weekend?”
Emotion bubbles up my throat as I consider how much to tell her. I trust Sybil, and I know she would never, ever, ever spill a secret. But at the same time, I don’t think Sebastian would be too happy with me if I told her. Regardless, she’s my best friend, and right now, I’m not too happy with him either. So, we’re even, I guess.
I drag my body upright and gesture for the pack of gummy bears in Sybil’s hand as I offer her the only explanation I have.
“I’m pretty sure I sold myself to Mr. Carter this weekend.”
AFTER SYBIL’S freak-out and the hours-long discussion that ensued, I feel a lot better about facing Monday, if only to have it off my chest. She promised me she wouldn’t say anything after I assured her I was okay, and that as crazy as it sounds, I wanted it. Then Sybil pointed out that she felt this weird sexual tension between me and Mr. Carter but didn’t want to say anything in case she was wrong. She also went on to tell me how numerous girls at this school have tried to seduce the hot devil teacher, and I have been the only one on record to succeed. That doesn’t make me feel any better.
The financial office confirmed receipt of my tuition, plus a little extra for expenses. I’m officially safe to stay at Loyola for the remainder of the school year as long as I don’t screw up. I should feel relieved, but I don’t. Especially when I get to class on Monday, and Sebastian won’t even look at me. Today, he’s wearing a Prussian blue suit with a pale blue undershirt and black cap-toe derby shoes. He looks good enough to die for, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to concentrate when I can still taste him on my lips. When he asks Louisa to shut the door this time, the green-eyed monster in me glares at her as she skips across the room.
Almost immediately, Mr. Carter launches into a discussion on QUEST framework and our end of year presentations, which we need to start planning now. I’m struggling to keep up as I cave into my baser needs, studying every line and curve of his face.
“You might want to be a little less obvious.” Sybil elbows me in the side.
His eyes snap to us, and I force my attention to my journal as I pretend to jot down notes. What I’m really doing is doodling his name a thousand different ways. Is he just going to act as if Saturday night never happened and carry on with the rest of the school year giving me the cold shoulder? Sybil’s thoughts seem to echo my own as the class draws to an end, and we leave together. Sebastian never addressed me or bothered to look my way again after he caught us whispering.