Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“I’m just trying to be friendly,” Brandon tells him. “Wouldn’t want your roommate to think she has to lock herself in her room just because you have company. And she kind of makes the place look a little nicer just by being here.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, taking one big step backward. So long as I can put a locked door between us, I’ll be fine.
“Where are you going?” He’s fast, his hand shooting out and closing around my wrist before I know what’s happening.
“Ow! Stop! Get off me,” I demand, pulling but getting nowhere. He’s too strong, and tears spring to my eyes when his fingers press tighter against my flesh until I feel my bones grind.
My pained whimper finally gets Buck’s attention. “Hey! Lay off her,” he says, and now he’s not laughing.
“Oh, sorry.” Like magic, I’m free, and Brandon’s grinning and shrugging. “I was just trying to be friendly. Sometimes I get a little too excited.”
I don’t give a shit what he says. I only know I’m free to go to my room and lock the door before leaning against it and examining the damage. Already my wrist is red, going on a faint shade of purple, especially where his fingers dug in. I wish I had a bandage to wrap around it, but even if I thought there would be one in the bathroom, I wouldn’t dare open the door.
“Hey, you.”
The sound of Brandon’s voice directly on the other side of the door makes me jump and spin around, staring at it with wide eyes.
“Wren, is it? I just wanted to clear up any misunderstanding.” He then lowers his voice almost to a whisper. “Just to let you know, I’m crashing on the couch for the next few days, so we’ll be like roommates. You can’t stay locked in your room forever, girl. I’ll see you soon.”
He can’t be serious. Wait, who am I kidding? That’s not even the craziest thing I’ve heard lately.
It is, however, really close to the straw that is breaking the camel’s back. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Never feeling safe, always having to protect myself from one threat or another. Knowing I didn’t bring any of it on myself.
There’s nothing I can do but curl up in the corner of my bed and sink into a new drawing, then another, sinking so deep that nothing and no one around me matters.
8
BRIGGS
She’s got a weird hair up her ass today. Even more than usual. Normally, she ignores me—or pretends to. But I know she’s fighting me, even if it’s only in her own mind. Forcing herself to act like I don’t exist. I know damn well there is no hope of ignoring me. Not really. She only pretends.
Which is why the way she’s acting today has me paying closer attention. She’ll normally glance at me and either quickly roll her eyes before looking away or keep her head down like some scared little bird who doesn’t want to make eye contact.
Today? I stood in her way outside sociology, and she only looked up at me, stared for two or three seconds, then walked around me and kept going. No fear in her eyes, no dread, nothing. Like she had come up against an obstacle and sidestepped it.
“Hello…” I mutter behind her once she walks past me after class, where I’m waiting. “I know you’re not bothering to pretend I’m not here. I know you wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that, would you? Do you think just because there are people around, I won’t punish you for ignoring me?”
The only response she gives is hunching her shoulders and folding her arms over herself. There’s something gratifying about that, anyway. But it’s not enough. Not even close.
“You got a few minutes after class?” one of the guys tossing a football in a group on the lawn calls out as Wren walks past. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I heard you get results fast.” Their laughter is music to my ears. I make it a point to laugh with them so they know to keep up the good work. I’m determined to be the person who controls every aspect of her life, but that doesn’t mean there’s more than twenty-four hours in a day. I can only do so much.
For the first time since I started following her, she decides to break her routine and go to the administration building instead of to the cafeteria. “I hope you don’t think you’re going in there to complain about me,” I call out loud enough to make her flinch, but still, she keeps going without acknowledging me.
By the time we reach the office, my blood is boiling and I’m ready to make her regret this fucking attitude she’s giving me today. Have I not been clear enough? Does she still think she’s got any control over her life?