Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
If only you applied yourself.
I can apply myself. I can apply my hand to your ass.
I roll my eyes and smile. Then, because Cole is there, because he has my back, I open an email to Brumgard.
Thank you for the articles. I selected several for publication. Please have the following students email me their stories so I don’t need to retype them. I have the quotes on printing. Can you get a purchase order from the school to cover the costs?
Making a teacher my bitch. I’m living a whole new world under the tutelage of Cole Muchmore and his cocky alpha-hole ways.
Maybe getting molested by a teacher has a silver lining. I’m learning to assert myself in all kinds of new ways.
And I definitely have Cole to thank for it.
Chapter 12
Bailey
Cole told me we couldn’t get together this weekend.
That doesn’t stop me from checking my phone or watching the street outside for his truck after the football game.
I went to watch, as promised, and this time I actually enjoyed myself. Rayne and I still sat in the back, but I felt more comfortable. Even though the entire rest of the school still snubs both of us, the star of the team wanted me there.
I saw him looking for me. I swear I knew when he spotted me, too. And he played gloriously.
Lakeside had no chance against Wolf Ridge High. Our school absolutely trounced them. I’m starting to see why people enjoy sports around here so much. There’s never the disappointment of losing.
But now the game is over. My mom is still working on her laptop at the kitchen table, and I’m home, thinking about Catrina.
About what we’d be doing if she were still alive, how we would celebrate her eighteenth birthday. I lie on my bed and do what I vowed not to do—torture myself by opening up my old Instagram account. And there she is, her beautiful smile lighting up picture after picture of the two of us together and with friends. An entire photo-documentary of our years from seventh grade when I opened my account until she died.
I cry until I run out of tears and then I finally get a grip.
This isn’t doing me any good, and if I keep squatting in this hole I’ve dug, I’ll never get myself out of it. I roll off the bed and slip on a pair of flip flops.
I need to get out of the house, and I know exactly where I want to go.
“I’m going for a drive, Mom,” I call as I head to the door.
“Bailey? Wait, where are you going?” My mom leans in her chair to see me through the doorway to the living room and catches sight of my puffy red eyes. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
I choke back a fresh sob. “Nothing. It’s Catrina’s birthday. I’m going for a drive.”
Concern etches her forehead. “Okay, angel,” she says like she thinks it’s a weird idea but isn’t going to argue. “Be safe.”
I wince. “I’ll try,” I mutter and shut the door.
The sun has already set and a huge full moon is rising over Wolf Ridge. It’s the Hunter’s Moon, Rayne said yesterday. Whatever that means.
I get in my car and drive up to the abandoned playground. Cole said he liked to come here when he needs to get away, so it seemed like a good place. Although coming after dark is a little creepy.
The light of the full moon casts everything into an eerie glow. But it’s so bright I don’t have to take out my phone to see where I’m going.
I sit on a swing and give myself a push, gradually building height until I’m soaring, the wind rushing across my skin, the sense of falling and swooping soothing my heartache. I close my eyes and melt into it.
And that’s when I hear the growling.
My eyes fly open and I nearly piss my pants. Three giant wolves stand in a semi circle in front of me, teeth bared, fur ruffed. The unearthly growls send terror zipping up my spine.
I try to scream, but no sound comes out. I think my diaphragm’s stuck up in my throat.
I grip the rusty metal chains tighter, pumping my legs harder, like that will somehow get me out of here. Like if I swing high enough, the seat will just detach and fly me back home.
Shit, shit shit. I had no idea there were wolves in these parts. I mean, yes, it’s called Wolf Ridge, but I honestly didn’t know there was a real danger. Isn’t the Mexican gray wolf originally from this area on the extinction list?
The wolves show no sign of leaving. They’ve decided I’m dinner and they’re waiting for me to get off the damn swing. My whole body starts shaking like a leaf. Silent tears fall down my cheeks.