Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“We’re going to be.”
She sighs. “No, your parents are going to be—never mind. Well anyways, if I lived in the same house as Jamison Scott? I’d need a twenty-four-hour IV drip for fluids because I would never leave his bed.”
I grit my teeth, something hot welling up inside of me.
“Listen, I have to go, Melissa.”
“Oh, yeah, totally. Samesies!” She grins at me, and I smile back as non-faked as I can possibly make it look.
“I guess I’ll see you later after school anyways.”
I frown. “Wait is there a practice scheduled today?”
She giggles. “Oh, no, I meant at your house!” She winks. “Jamison invited me over to check out that car he’s been working on.”
A red mist clouds my vision, and my jaw clenches painfully. My hands clench to fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I swallow thickly.
“Oh really,” I say flatly.
Melissa grins. “Ooooh yeah. And girl, is that back seat gonna see some—”
“Okay, Melissa?!” I snap, wrinkling my nose. “I really, really don’t need to hear this?”
She laughs, slapping my arm again in a way that makes me want to slap her face.
“Okay, whatever, prude.” She does this little dipping Queen-wave thing that makes me frown.
“Later, bitch!”
Go fuck yourself, bitch.
I’m seething as I walk away. Seething about what Melissa’s told me but seething even more at myself for even letting it bother me. I’m pissed at myself for even being pissed that Jamison has a girl coming over.
I am not into Jamison Scott.
I don’t like Jamison Scott.
Maybe the base, animal part of me finds him attractive in that evolutionary way. I mean he’s tall, muscled, strong, blah blah blah. Maybe there’s a cavewoman inside of me feels the need to make offspring with him or something fucked up like that. But I do not “like” Jamison Scott.
I don’t. And I am not jealous.
Not at all.
But I’m still bubbling with anger though as I storm down the hall to my stats class.
And girl, is that back seat gonna see some action!
Melissa’s words twist something inside of me, and as they replay and replay in my head, I grind my jaw tighter and tighter and squeeze my hands into fists harder and harder. Still seething, and still confused…
But suddenly, an idea hits me, and slowly, I my tight mouth begins to curl into an evil smile. And by the time I get to stats class, already on my phone watching YouTube videos for reference, my idea is a plan, and I grin.
…Because now, I know how to get Jamison Scott back.
He wants to festoon my room with dicks?
Go ahead, because he’s about to get the cock-blocking of his life.
4
Jamison
To be clear, I am not into Melissa Cruz. So not my style. Too blonde. Too bubbly. Too giggly, and flirty, and to be honest, to fucking obvious. The girl’s been draped over my fucking arm since I got back to Winchester. Look, she’s not not pretty, she’s just not my type, at all.
Her coming over was a mistake and I mean that quite literally. It’s her brother, Jackson, that I actually wanted to come over to see the Shelby Mustang I’ve been rebuilding. Jackson’s a junior at Winchester, and a total douche, but I know he’s got this sick car collection back at his parents’ place in LA. I mean their garage is goddamn legendary. Jay Leno even did one of his car show episodes there.
My dad’s been big these days about talking about “connections” and all that shit. So that’s why wanted Jackson to check out the Shelby, because a guy like that has connections with the kind of cars and car people I’m into. Or the kind of career I might want after school. But of course, Melissa managed to get herself invited.
Herself, and of course, no Jackson.
How convenient.
“He wanted to come, he just…” she grins as I begrudgingly open then side door to the huge Weiss Manor garage and let her in.
“Well, he couldn’t make it.”
“I’m sure.”
I’m betting now that Melissa never even told Jackson. But whatever, she’s here. The easiest thing to do now is bore her to death with car talks and hope that maybe she’s annoyed enough that she drops some info about the car to Jackson later. And of course, there’s another perk of her being here, too. And that perk is that I am very aware of the way Ramona was glaring at me earlier at school with Melissa chatting me up. I’m aware of the skulking looks she gave me when Melissa pulled up in her white and chrome Porsche, or when she and I headed down here to the garage.
…I’ll be damned if Ramona Weiss isn’t a tad bit jealous.
I grin thinking about it as we walk over to the car, and I suddenly realize Melissa thinks the grin is for her. Suddenly, her hand is sliding over my arm.