Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
I can’t believe he has any friends. But then, if everyone else at school is as mean and unoriginal as the people I’ve run into so far today, I guess there’s a chance. These people have nothing better to do than go out of their way to make someone feel less-than. Whatever happened to people minding their own business?
I’ve reached the parking lot when the sight of two girls hanging out near Carter’s black truck makes me slow down. The impulse to back away is almost too tempting. Maybe I can get out of here before they notice me. Even if they’re only hanging out to say hi to Carter again—I’d rather swallow my own tongue, but there’s no accounting for taste—I can’t imagine they would be much nicer than anybody else has been today. I walk slowly the rest of the way, passing one car after another, hoping they will leave before I reach them.
As if my luck has ever gone that way. The curly-haired blonde girl notices me first, nudging her friend before murmuring something that makes her look my way over the roofs of the cars between us. I can’t tell if they’re grinning to be friendly or because they’re looking forward to being bitches. Since I’m not sure what they’re all about, I stick to giving them a short nod before reaching them. Even then, I leave a little space between us.
“Hi. Are you Elliana?” The girl with the curly hair gives me a wave since we are too far apart to shake hands. “I’m Maya, and this is Wren. We’re friends of Carter’s.”
I’m sorry to hear that. I do my best to give them a tiny smile, and even that is almost painful. I’m out of practice.
“How was your first day of class?” Wren asks. She has big, hopeful eyes that shine my way. Are they for real? Is this a big setup?
What I wouldn’t give to be able to take them at face value, to believe they have good intentions. But if they’re friends with Carter, they can’t be much different than he is, right? For all I know, he put them up to it, either to get me off his hands or to make me even more miserable. Either way, I am not in the mood.
I really wish they would stop looking at me the way they are, staring at me like it actually matters whether or not I say anything. I can’t imagine they honestly care. Why would they? Since it’s pretty clear they expect something from me and they’re not going to stop until they get it, I lift a shoulder while shifting my backpack. “It was fine.”
Please, God, let this stop.
“Great. What do you have this semester?” Maya asks.
Did I die? Is this hell? “Oh, today I had Psych, Calculus, and Literature.”
“That’s a pretty long day,” Wren muses. When I sneak a glance at her from under my lashes, she looks sympathetic. “Why don’t you come out with us and unwind a little?”
“Yeah!” Maya agrees enthusiastically. “We could go grab an iced coffee in town, maybe walk around a little, show you where things are?”
“Because you’re not from around here, are you?” Wren prompts. “I remember Carter saying something about you and your mom being from out of town.”
I’m sure that’s not all he said. I’m sure he has plenty of opinions. Just the thought of him makes my face go hot, though my sweater isn’t really helping things either. Pushing up the sleeves, I fight to find something to say. I have to fight for every word as it is—I’m always sure that whatever I choose will be the wrong thing. You would think enough years pass for a person to start forgetting being laughed at every time they open their mouth in class, but you would be wrong.
I still hear every snicker and laugh. I still see every dirty look. If I went to high school with these girls, they would be whispering about me right now, their heads bent together, hands in front of their faces. Like that makes it any easier to be laughed at.
“Really, I have to finish unpacking,” I tell them, which isn’t really a lie.
“Oh. Okay. Maybe next time,” Wren offers after her face falls.
She can’t be for real. There’s no way. Nobody is actually this nice on purpose. They can’t possibly be disappointed that some stranger won’t go window shopping with them over iced coffee.
No, they’re probably disappointed they won’t have a chance to be mean. Like that bread roll Carter threw at my head last night. The prick.
I look up from my scuffed trainers in time to see Wren nudge Maya, nodding at something behind me. “Here comes Carter. I guess we’ll let you guys go home. It was really nice to meet you,” Wren adds.