Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Because if you’re not her friend, you’re her enemy.
And the last thing I need is to have Melissa as an enemy. I’ve seen the sorts of things she’s done to the people she doesn’t like. Once when Penny Culver mentioned trying out for the cheer captain position, the next day, she was caught with a stolen answer key in her locker. She was suspended for a week and kicked off the cheer squad. Melissa’s never admitted to it, but I saw the look on her face—the triumphant grin—and would bet my last dollar, it was her.
We only have a little over a year and a half left of school and then I’ll be on my way out of here. My plan is to apply to NYU, so I can go to school in the city, and if I get in, I’ll most likely never see any of these people again. While Melissa is messing around and not taking school seriously, I’m making sure I pave the road for my future.
Richie and I haven’t really talked about what will happen after he graduates in June. I know he’s planning to go to medical school eventually—he wants to be a doctor of some sort. But if I’m honest, I’m not even sure if I see a future with him.
After we finish eating, everyone cleans up their mess so we can head to Sunrise Estates. Unlike our upscale neighborhood, which has tennis courts, a pool and clubhouse, and a golf course, Sunrise Estates is a mobile home park that has a shitty basketball court and baseball field. It’s where everyone goes to play ball and get high and drunk.
“I need to use the restroom,” I tell Richie as he throws our garbage in the trash. When he doesn’t say anything, I repeat myself. This time, he lifts his chin slightly, indicating he heard me.
After I’m done going pee and washing my hands, I head outside just in time to see a bunch of our friends—including Melissa who’s riding shotgun—climb into Richie’s tricked-out BMW. Several others are climbing into Landon’s older Mustang, and the rest are finding someone else to catch a ride with. You’d think since I’m Richie’s girlfriend, he’d make sure I was with him. Unfortunately, that’s not how he rolls.
“Hey, Harper, get in!” Landon yells as Richie takes off. “Get in the back, bro,” he says to his friend and teammate, Cohen. Cohen groans, but does as he says, and I get in.
“Thanks,” I say, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
“No problem.” He smiles over at me, and those same butterflies I thought I’d successfully kicked out and slammed the door on, are back.
We pull up to the baseball field and everyone scatters from the cars like roaches being exposed to sunlight. A couple of guys are carrying cases of beer and bottles of liquor. Melissa’s brother, Dennis, is already lighting up a joint, taking a hit, and then passing it to Melissa. Several of the girls are laying out blankets to get comfortable.
Landon backs his car up to the edge of the field and puts it in park so we can all get out. He turns the music up loud, then pops his trunk open. After fishing around for a good minute, he pulls his glove out then slams the trunk closed.
“Make sure no one touches my car,” he says to me with a playful smirk. Before I can say anything back, he’s running toward the field.
Richie and Landon both play varsity basketball and baseball. I prefer basketball over baseball. For one, baseball is boring as hell to watch. Also, when they play basketball, half the guys take their shirts off, and they’re always left hot and sweaty from running up and down the court.
As I’m leaning against the back of Landon’s car, Melissa and our other friend Angela come walking over. “Hit?” Melissa offers, extending a joint out to me.
“I better not. I have to leave soon.” Not that I would anyway. I stopped smoking years ago, but Melissa never noticed. She tends to not pay attention to anyone but herself and whatever guy she’s messing around with.
Melissa snickers. “What is your mom going to do? Ground you?” She rolls her eyes. “You’re already grounded.”
Melissa doesn’t get it because her parents don’t give a shit what either of their kids do. They don’t care if they fail out of school or come home high. As long as she and her brother don’t bug them, they can pretty much do whatever they want. I’m not sure exactly what her parents do for a living, but they’re rarely home.
My parents, on the other hand, very much care. Actually, that’s not true. My mom cares. My dad used to, but now he’s usually too drunk to really pay attention. About a year ago, he got let go from his job. No longer being the bread winner hit him hard and he started drinking. Now he’s drunk more than he’s sober, and it’s put a severe strain on our family.