Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Trust me, my ADHD lets me do a hundred things at once. Sometimes it’s a curse, but I’ve learned to roll with it.”
She purses her lips. “Pop, like you, has enough charm to get in my sixth grade teacher’s panties, but Ma still loves him. I suspect he’s cheated more than once.” She pauses. “I won’t ever be that girl.”
Whoa. I didn’t expect that, and I read her face, seeing the way her forehead furrows.
Like you? What the hell?
“Don’t get me wrong—I adore him. He’s my dad, but Ma…that kind of love is either stupid or so committed and deep that I’ll never be able to understand it.”
“Huh. Any high school boyfriends you left behind?” I know for a fact she’s never had a serious boyfriend at Waylon. I asked Ryker, who asked Penelope.
Her face hardens. “I thought I was in love with this guy once, but…”
“What?”
She lifts a shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. He taught me a good lesson.”
I frown. “Which was?”
She gives me a long look, her face unsmiling, eyes crinkling as if she’s thinking hard about what to say, as if she’s reliving something…
“What the fuck did he do to you?” My voice has risen, and a few students look over at us.
“He asked me to prom on a dare. Once he got the money for doing it, he left me and hung out with the girl he really wanted to take.”
I’m full-on frowning. “Why would he do that, Charm?”
She stills, blinking rapidly. “I didn’t hit my growth spurt for height until the summer before college. In school, I was even shorter than I am now, with no waist, you know, like…like a blob walking down the hall.” She stares at the floor and then looks back up at me. “Chubby Charm. That’s what he called me.”
A muscle in my face pops. “What’s his name? Where does he live?”
“You going to defend my honor?”
“Hell yeah—with my fist in his face,” I growl.
“I’m over it. Look at me now—city girl.” She attempts a smile.
“Are you really over it?” I had names thrown at me from my parents, and I still stew on them. Piece of shit sticks out the most.
“Most of the time. I’m tougher now, older, and I know kids say mean things, know it usually points back to what’s wrong with them. I came to Waylon and put it behind me.”
Is this and her dad the reason for her rules?
Is it why she’s never let herself have a real boyfriend?
I’m about to ask her when Chaz continues, “And if you are really good, you will find that you can create one final satisfying deep thrust at just the right moment to ensure the total annihilation of your partner.”
Charisma’s face gets pink again and a giggle escapes. “OMG. He is killing me. Make it stop.”
“Please spend the rest of class thrusting at each other to gain experience,” Chaz instructs.
We lock eyes and try to hide our laughter. I take advantage of her distractedness and poke my foil at her shoulder.
“Your turn,” I say as I pull back.
“To poke you?”
“To tell me something.”
“I just told you all kinds of stuff about my pop and some stupid guy! Hardly anyone knows that except Penelope!”
“Tell me something good.” I poke at her and she dodges.
“Fine. I love horror movies, even though blood grosses me out.” She plunges her foil into my chest with proper form.
“Really? You like being scared? Huh.”
She nods. “Being terrified is kinda the point, to be sucked into the mind and body of the lead character to the point where you feel what they feel and hurt when they hurt. What’s your favorite movie?”
“Say Anything with John Cusack.”
“STFU.” She drops her foil to her side, and I take the opportunity to lunge toward her and hit her in the leg.
I grin. “First love really gets to me, and John’s character…man, he went all out when it came to winning the heart of the girl everyone told him he couldn’t have. Dude had balls, and I admire that. Plus, he had a kickass sister and a cute little nephew he taught kickboxing to. I watched a lot of movies growing up.”
“Just a movie buff?”
“Mostly enjoyed seeing families on TV, you know, how they interacted and cared about each other.”
She gives me a stunned look, her mouth parting. “Because your parents died?”
“Yeah.” I’m surprised the admission about my preference of movies came out of my mouth. I never talk or hint about how it was for me growing up. But it’s her. And things feel different since the grocery store.
“Less talk, more work, students!” Chaz says, clapping his hands at us.
We move around each other, each of our foils raised as we continue the poses. She seems distracted, and I am too, thinking about her past and mine and how it’s shaped both of us.