Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
We enter the house and move down the long hallway that meets the kitchen before coming face to face with what seems to be my best friend’s new idol. “Hey, we made it! This is so awesome. I can’t believe you all live here.”
And I can’t believe what a kiss-ass my friend just turned into.
“Oh, it’s just a house. It’s nothing compared to the rest of the perks.” Brittany smiles and turns her eyes on me. Her lips drop a smidge, but she manages to put them back in place as she greets me. “Jim, right?” she says, making a poor attempt at remembering my name.
“It’s Jensen, actually,” I remind her with the same sourness in my tone.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. I knew it was some sort of boy’s name.” Before I can kill her with my gaze, she turns her attention back on Christine, dismissing me. “So glad you could make it. It’s beauties like you we’re looking for in our house. I’d love to give you a tour, if you’re up for it. Unless you have to stay here and keep—”
“I’d love a tour!” Christine beams, letting go of my arm.
So, I guess that’s that. She doesn’t need me anymore.
“Hey, you okay for a bit? Mind if I—”
“Dude, totally go. I’ll just be here, playing the perfect sister, drinking their fancy pink champagne until you return.” I give Brittany a look, and she regards me with distaste before taking Christine by the hand and escorting her away, leaving me by myself.
I take in the surroundings, and even though I was totally joking about the champagne, low and behold, I spot a counter full of it.
“Jesus, this is what nightmares are made of,” I mumble under my breath as I walk deeper into the kitchen, searching for a real alcoholic drink. I spot the bourbon and smile, then offer myself a two finger pour into a pink Solo cup, because of course it would match the champagne, and slam it. Knowing I’m gonna need a strong buzz to get through this night, I refill my cup, then turn, almost colliding right into another girl.
“Shit, sorry, I wasn’t—”
“Paying attention? Clearly.” The girl, who I recognize from the other night, swings her perfectly dyed blonde mane over her shoulders, checking her dress for spills.
“You’re Suzi, right?” I lie, knowing that’s not her name.
“Sylvia. And you’re the girl with the strange name.” Brushing me off, she turns her head and offers a wide, fake smile to another girl walking by. “I’m actually surprised to still see you at these things. Didn’t picture you as the pledging type.”
Well, at least we agree on something. “I’m not. I’m here for my friend. Not that I get what she sees in all this.” Sylvia watches me with narrowed eyes. I can sense she’s trying to figure me out. Find a way to talk down to me. Hurt me in a way that will make her feel superior. I want to quit the bullshit and tell her I’m no fool to people like her—mean girls who feed off other’s insecurities. Her confidence doesn’t faze me. It actually makes me chuckle on the inside. Because people like her? They aren’t confident. They’re the most insecure. That’s why they use the power they inherit in places like this against people like me.
“Well, at least it won’t hurt as bad when we turn you down. Obviously, you didn’t think you would be accepted, right? You’re not one of us. Nor is there hope for you to become a sister.”
It takes everything in me not to toss my drink in her face, but that would show my cards. She’s not under my skin, but near the open wound. I don’t need to be part of a cult to feel okay about myself, but it never feels okay to be rejected. “Oh, don’t worry. I can’t fathom having to waste my time kissing someone’s glittered ass just to feel wanted.”
Sylvia’s facial expression fights off my remark. “Honey, I get it. We just aren’t your type of girls. I’m sure there’s a club somewhere on campus you can join. A girls girls club, if you know what I mean.”
That one I felt.
“And exactly what is that supposed to mean?” I bait her, daring her to say it. I am not opposed to hitting a girl.
“Just that this might not be your type of thing. Us girls, we like…well, we like men.”
I take a quick step forward, closing in on the space between us. I know my actions may affect Christine’s ability to pledge here, but she doesn’t need people like Sylvia in her life anyway. Lifting my hand, I slam back my drink and dump the cup, making it accessible to take a swing at her, when a group of girls come barreling through the back door.