Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
With a sinking feeling, she realized he wasn’t coming.
The following day there was no fifth-period assembly, which meant Mr. Sawyer’s class was on. Jocelyn hadn’t seen him yet, even though she’d passed by his room between every single period. He normally stood in the hallway before classes. Was he avoiding her? Or was she overthinking it? He couldn’t be that mad at her for walking with Lucas, right? She’d wanted to call him the night before, even looked up the phone number at his house. But she knew that crossed a line.
She slipped into her usual third-row seat across from Ivy, practically shaking with nerves, hoping he’d meet her eyes, maybe slip her a note. Anything. Something.
But he didn’t. Mr. Sawyer stood at the front of the class, and when the bell rang, he began lecturing about their reading assignment. His eyes were hard, narrowed.
“Pay attention,” he said at one point, rapping his knuckles on his desk. Everyone sat a little straighter. She looked up, wondering if he was talking to her—she had been lost in her thoughts—but he looked everywhere but at her.
At this point, she couldn’t deny it any longer: she’d made him mad.
She let out an unsteady breath, trying to pay attention. But inside, she was falling apart. Had she ruined everything?
Jocelyn waited until class ended, fussed with her backpack until every other student had filed out. Then, quietly, hands clutched in front of her, she approached him. “Mr. Sawyer?”
“What?” He didn’t look at her. His words were cold, rigid. He straightened a stack of papers on his desk, tucked them into his satchel.
She lowered her voice to a whisper. She wasn’t supposed to say this out loud, especially not here, at school. “You didn’t come last night.”
He snorted. “I presumed you had other plans.”
Silence stretched between them. Outside, there was the clang of lockers slamming shut, the squeak of sneakers over the shiny hallway floor. But in the room, it felt like the whole universe revolved around just the two of them. And that universe was about to dissolve, disappear, before she’d even gotten to understand it.
“Wh-what?” she managed. Then she realized. “Lucas is only a friend—”
Mr. Sawyer looked right at her then, raising a palm in a clear signal to stop. “Listen, you can associate with whoever you want. But if you’re going to be a whore, I can’t waste my time on you.”
The words hit Jocelyn like a sucker punch to the gut. Tears sprang to her eyes, hot and burning. “I—I won’t see him anymore. I swear.”
“We’ve had this conversation once already.” Mr. Sawyer brushed by her, and she nearly smacked into the wall.
“Wait—”
He huffed a sigh, came to a stop. “What, Jocelyn?”
“I won’t see him anymore. Really. You’re the only person I want to see, the only person that matters.”
He turned ever so slightly, giving her a searching look. Overhead, the bell rang, signaling the next period starting, and Mr. Sawyer looked deep into her eyes before shaking his head and exhaling. He yanked his wallet out and pressed bills into her hand.
“Tomorrow night. Last chance. But you’ll have to get the room. The kid in the office is a former student of mine. He recognized me, and I can’t be seen getting a room again. I told him I was having work done at my house, but I can’t be getting the key all the time.”
Jocelyn accepted the money, eyes wide. “But I’m not eighteen yet.”
“They don’t care. They don’t ask for ID at that shithole. Room 212. Got it?”
She swallowed. “Okay.”
“And don’t use your real name.”
She opened and closed her mouth, searching for words. She felt relieved he was talking to her, still wanted to meet with her—but also, she was getting the room? The idea of going in the lobby, of being found out—a cold sweat broke over her, just thinking about it. “What name should I use?”
“Jocelyn Burton.”
“Okay. Why that name?”
Mr. Sawyer lifted his bag onto his shoulder. “It was my mother’s name, her maiden name was Burton.” He looked away, strolled to the classroom door, then paused to turn back. “And, Jocelyn, there will be punishment.” He gave her a long look. “Don’t come if you don’t want it.”
CHAPTER
27
I’m starting to look like my mother.
The thought stabs at my heart. I grab the concealer I’ve just put on and apply a second, thicker layer under my heavy-lidded eyes. It cakes into the fine lines, emphasizing instead of hiding the creases. I should’ve iced the swelling before attempting makeup, but I didn’t have the energy when I dragged myself out of bed after another sleepless night. It’s been almost three days since I’ve slept anything more than a fifteen-minute catnap. Every time I shut my eyes and start to drift off, memories flood back. Bits and pieces. Flashes of moments. Like me kneeling in front of Mr. Sawyer in that room and him backhanding me across the face. Hard. Not even the sleeping pills have helped. Lord knows I’ve taken a handful over the last forty-eight hours.