Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I keep forgetting these aren’t the same kind of people I grew up around. Theo probably has never heard of being grounded.
I’m starting to think I’m underdressed. All I did was pick up a headband with cat ears attached, then drew some whiskers on my cheeks and dressed in all black. I know Halloween is supposed to be for dressing up sexy, at least when you’re our age, but I didn’t really have anything that worked. Salem offered to lend me something, but I wasn’t blessed with big boobs like she was. I looked like a little kid dressing up in my mom’s clothes.
She’s not dressed very sexy, either, wearing last year’s cheerleader uniform splattered in red paint. Along with her makeup, she looks enough like a zombie that nobody notices how lame I look in comparison.
I’m surprised anybody notices her at all. I feel like I walked into a strip club. There are girls in shoes that have at least five or six-inch heels. They’re wearing latex and leather and, in one case, a sheer bodysuit with pasties over the nipples.
“Trashy,” Salem decrees under her breath even though she’s all smiles for the girl wearing it.
“Hey, where’s Hayes?” another girl asks as they pass by.
I can only shrug. He knew I was coming to this—it was sort of an established thing before I agreed to leave him alone and stay out of his way. But I haven’t seen much of him except for his presence in history class today. I should be happy about that, shouldn’t I? The less I see him, the less chance of him doing or saying something to make me feel bad about myself.
But I miss him, too. I wonder if Mr. Ambrose would pay for me to go to therapy. I’m thinking I need it.
“He texted me. He’ll be here soon.” I didn’t know Franky was right behind me. He winds his arms around my waist before giving me a squeeze. “You look cute.”
Salem rolls her eyes dramatically. “Cute. No girl over the age of ten wants to be called cute.”
I have to agree. “She’s not wrong. But thank you. I wasn’t going for sexy or anything.” I’m sure it will be easier to deal with Hayes when I’m dressed this way, too. Otherwise, he might get all weird like he did at the last party. Should he rule so much of my life, so many of my decisions? Probably not. But I can’t help it.
Just like I can’t help feeling a little jaded now. There are girls making out in one corner of the kitchen, and another porn playing in the backyard. Now there’s portable heaters out there, and I guess the pool is heated, too, since people are swimming. I think one of the couples might actually be having sex in the water.
It doesn’t even shock me anymore. I guess I’m finally getting used to this life. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I don’t know if I want to be like some of these people. All they care about is finding the next experience, the next chance to feel something. Of course, I could be overthinking it. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done that.
I’m surprised at how many of the guys are dressed up. A few people are wearing masks that hide who they really are, but of course if a person wants to drink, they have to take the mask off. I keep expecting one of them to be Hayes, but I haven’t seen him yet. I wonder what’s taking him so long and hope he didn’t pick tonight of all nights to do something crazy.
I need a night off from worrying about him.
After a couple of drinks, though, I don’t care as much. Salem even convinces me to dance a little, and it actually helps loosen up the tension I’m carrying around. It doesn’t matter that I’m not great at dancing—few of the people around us are, but nobody cares.
One of the football players dances up on her from behind, but she laughs it off and plays along. I can’t help remembering her warning about them, but right now she seems fine with it. Somebody comes up behind me, too, and I roll my eyes.
“Back off,” I call out over my shoulder. “I don’t need you poking my ass.” I barely even sound like myself.
But he doesn’t stop—in fact, he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me closer. From one heart-stopping second, I think it must be Hayes. I can’t see much of him, but he’s wearing a mask that makes his head look like a skeleton.
I touch his bicep and stiffen in surprise. It’s not nearly as muscular as Hayes’s. “Get off me,” I mutter before driving an elbow into his stomach.