Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
That hurts even more.
The photographer tells Asher to focus. I don't bother to look to see why. Not until he gives up and ends up re-posing them out of frustration. As soon as he shouts yes, you’re in love, I turn to go.
I probably should have done that already.
Old Elle's shadow is still standing there though, meeting Asher's stare, pining for what could have been - for all the things I made up in my mind of what I thought we were. She's eager and ready to excuse because she wants him around and likes the way he made her feel. That is, when he's not kissing and living with another girl.
But New Elle walks the fuck away.
I hear the commotion from behind.
Asher has left the shoot.
His footsteps come soon after, loud stomps that echo, and in my imagination he's running after the best thing that's ever happened to him, equally as hurt as I feel, maybe worse, begging me not to go.
Luckily I've learned my lesson.
No more living in my head.
"Babe," he whispers, his hand brushing my shoulder.
I snap around and ball my fists. "I am not your babe."
I’m not his anything.
Not his hookup buddy.
Definitely not his girlfriend.
Not even his friend.
"Elle," he sighs.
I raise my eyebrows, waiting for whatever lame excuse he's gonna give. I know he won't actually do the begging thing. Not in front of all these people.
I can't believe I did it again.
I built someone up into someone they're not. I built him up to be someone who wouldn’t break my heart.
I was wrong.
There are too many people around for him to continue, and a moment later he's pulled away.
Coward.
I roll my eyes and head in the opposite direction.
Outside the late summer air is stuffy and suffocating. There’s a small crowd waiting. Photographers. Fans waving posters with Asher and Sabrina's faces dressed as their characters in Sunbitten.
Yeah, they look in love all right.
A loud groan erupts as I'm the one who heads down the stairs. I’m not who they had hoped for.
Seems to be a trend.
I remember getting home.
I remember rushing to my room, shutting the door and collapsing on my bed.
Crying.
Bawling.
I remember ignoring Mom's knocks.
Eventually she comes in anyway. I tell her I'm tired.
I don't actually move the covers to see if she believes me or leaves before I fall asleep.
It's almost dark. In the space between sleep and awake I watch my phone light up and absentmindedly reach for it.
Blinking a few times I wait for my eyes to adjust.
Countless calls from Asher and even more texts.
Jess too.
I ignore them all and close my eyes again.
The next time I get up it's pitch black. I turn over.
Almost midnight.
My stomach rumbles. I haven't eaten all day. I'm weak but manage to stand.
In the time I go downstairs, grab food, and actually eat it, Mom must have asked a hundred times if I want to talk.
I don't have the heart to tell her she was right when she first warned about Asher.
I should have stayed away.
"I told you. It's all the early mornings catching up." I repeat for the umpteenth time, watching as she fumbles with the garbage.
"You know by the time Dad gets done downstairs he'll forget," she smiles.
I finally go over and help. "Here, I'll do it."
She offers a kind smile. "In that case I'm off to bed."
With a nod I open the sliding glass door, hit by the blasting music.
I forgot about Jess's party.
Mom and I both cower.
"Sounds like Jess is at it again."
"Yeah," I mumble. "I'll bring out the cans in the garage too."
"You're not going?"
"Tired, remember?"
"You haven't seen her in months." A worried look crosses her face. I ignore the comment and slide into my flip flops. "Asher called," she pauses. "He sounded upset."
Good.
"Elle..." She coaxes when I say nothing.
"What?" I snap.
"People mess up. It's human nature. Not everyone who does is a bad person."
"Travis was."
"I'm not talking about Travis." She narrows her stare. "I'm talking about Asher."
"Asher is an asshole."
"There's a lot to be said about those who own up to their mistakes and try to make things right."
I glare. "So he couldn't get ahold of me so he went to you," I fathom. "Unbeliavable."
"He cares."
"And you're on his side," I cross my arms.
"You're my kid. I'm always on your side."
"Yeah well did he tell you he kept things from me? Important things. And you're wrong, he doesn't care about me."
"He did mention some things." She crosses her arms too. This is out of character for her, defending a guy like Asher. "I'm not saying what he did was right," she continues. "But he tries awfully hard to go out of his way for someone he doesn't care about, don't you think?"
I shake my head.
"I think Asher doesn't do anything that doesn't benefit himself."
"Travis never called. Or came here. He never tried to get close with your family. Asher is different."