The Teacher of Nothing Read Online K. Webster

Categories Genre: Forbidden, Insta-Love, Romance, Taboo, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
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I’m kind of liking this new me.

I’m liking her a whole lot.

Park Mountain Lodge, while rustic and having been around for as long as I can remember, is stunning. The monolith sits on Park Mountain, a massive, log cabin style structure, looming over our town as if looking down its nose at everyone.

And it has every reason to be that way.

This place is not only gorgeous, but it’s owned by the wealthy Parks, three of which I’m attending with.

“Will you get in trouble for partying here?” I ask as we roll into a parking spot.

“If we get caught,” Dempsey says from the front seat beside Spencer. “We’re going in through the side.”

We all climb out of the vehicle and make a beeline for the side of the lodge. There’s a guy sitting on the concrete step, smoking. When he sees us, he gives us a chin lift in greeting. Spencer pulls some cash from his pocket and smacks it into the guy’s hand.

“Room thirty-seven,” the guy says. “The place is already full. Not sure if you want to let any more in.”

“Nah,” Spencer tells him. “We’re good. Anyone else shows up, send them away.”

Spencer opens the door and holds it for us to pass through. His stare is on me again as I enter the lodge. I’m quickly distracted by the scent of oranges and cloves. It’s a warm, cozy smell that has me relaxing.

“This way,” Spencer says, taking hold of my wrist and tugging me toward a stairwell. “Stay quiet.”

My instinct is to jerk my arm from his grip, but I don’t. He’s not hurting me and not being creepy. I’m just jaded from having to deal with stupid Levi all the time.

I allow Spencer to guide me to the third floor. As soon as we push through the door, he lets go of my wrist. He saunters ahead to room thirty-seven and we follow. I can hear the soft thumping of music from beyond the door. It’s not so loud as to get reported, but it’s there if you’re listening for it.

“I booked the rooms on either side and the one below,” Spencer says, flashing me a wolfish grin. “The last thing I need is someone telling my fucking dad.”

The music grows louder once the door is opened. It’s already packed with familiar faces from school. A heady scent of weed hangs in the air. Red plastic cups litter the room and several bottles of hard liquor line the dresser beside the TV. Dempsey makes a beeline over to the liquor.

Gemma leans in and points a discreet finger at one of the beds where two people are making out. The guy has his hand beneath the girl’s dress, clearly fingering her in front of thirty or forty people.

“To think I almost said yes to going out with him,” Gemma hisses. “What a pig.”

I quickly put together that the guy on the bed is the one who asked her out. Gross.

“You can do better,” I assure her. “Guys our age are all immature assholes.”

She flashes me a grateful smile. “Right? We should totally date someone older. You think any college guys are here?”

There are a few unfamiliar faces, so it’s likely. I notice a cute guy wearing a PMU T-shirt that molds to his muscular shoulders and chest.

“Like him?” I ask, nodding his way.

Gemma quickly glances over at him and then her eyes widen when she looks at me. “That’s Justin Fairbanks. God, he’s so hot. He’s a senior at PMU. I doubt he’d even look twice at me.”

“So we’ll make him,” I say with a grin. “Come on.”

I drag her close to where he’s drinking with a couple of guys. She bites on her bottom lip as though she’s nervous. It’s crazy to me that someone like Gemma Park could ever be nervous. She’s perfect and popular and mega rich. But if her dad is as strict as she claims, she probably doesn’t get out all that much. It’s oddly satisfying to know that I’m not the only one who’s new to this sort of thing.

We begin dancing together. Dempsey shows up with two red cups and a devious grin tugging at his lips. I take my glass and mouth my thanks to him. At the first sip of whatever he brought me, I nearly spit it out. It tastes like fire and gasoline. So gross.

“Holy shit,” Gemma croaks. “This is so strong. I knew I should have made our drinks. Dempsey is a fucking idiot.”

The next sip isn’t as bad and by my second glass, not too much later, I decide it’s actually pretty tasty, whatever it is. The alcohol loosens both me and Gemma up, both of us giggling as we get more and more risqué with our dance moves.

Justin, now well aware of Gemma, approaches and dips to say something into her ear. She nods at him and then turns to look at me with wide eyes before mouthing, “Oh my God.”


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