Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Kennedy either sees it and doesn’t care or doesn’t notice. I don’t know which one it is, but the only thing that matters to me in that instant is reaching her fast enough. A van barrels down the road, heading straight for her. My heart clenches in my chest, fear pulses through my veins as I see it happen in my mind. Acting without thought, I reach out before the image in my mind can become a reality. Gripping onto the back of her shirt, I pull her back just as her foot touches the lip of the curb.
The van races by, laying on its horn while Kennedy’s back slams into my chest. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her. Before I come to my senses, I lower my head and bury my nose in her hair. For a few seconds, I allow myself to inhale her sweet floral scent that’s mixed with the smell of rain. Just this one time, I tell myself.
Shifting in my arms, she looks up at me, fear written in her features. I want to shake her for being so stupid. For not paying attention. Does she want to die? Why wouldn’t she look up before crossing a busy street?
It occurs to me then that I could’ve lost her. I could’ve lost my last piece of Jillian. It makes me aware of the fact that, though not much, I do care about Kennedy enough that I don’t want her dead.
“You saved me,” Kennedy whispers, almost breathlessly. Her pink lips are parted, her hair is damp, and her cheeks rosy with embarrassment or maybe shock.
Snapping out of it, I release her. “Are you stupid? Why would you walk out into a busy street when the sign was blinking red?” I force the fear out of my voice and replace it with anger. It’s not fake either. I’m furious. Why would she do that?
“I…” Her bottom lip trembles and tears well in her hazel eyes. I can almost see the old Kennedy in there. The girl I would do anything for. She’s close, almost within distance, and yet so far away, I won’t reach my hand out and grab her. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to feel anything for her. I don’t want to care about her.
Sneering, I take a step back. “Pay the fuck attention to what you’re doing. I can’t torment you if you’re dead.” Distance is what I need right now. I don’t really care about her, it’s just my sick obsession with getting revenge that has things twisted.
Kennedy exhales, her chest deflating. “What… What were you doing here? Were you following me?”
My lips tip up at the sides in a half-smile. “I’m always following you, Kennedy. Always watching you. Pay attention,” I tell her one last time before shoving my hands into my pockets and walking away. I leave her standing there because the alternative isn’t something I want to face right now. Kennedy can’t matter to me. She can’t become anything more than revenge. Not now, and not ever.
8
Kennedy
I replay the moment in my mind over and over again. The van almost hit me. Just another step, and I would’ve been gone, my life over. I still don’t know how I feel about it. For a long time, I felt like I should die, that I would do anything to trade spots with Jillian. I’ve never feared death. Instead, I’ve always hovered on the verge of welcoming it… until now. Since that almost hit the other day, I don’t think I want to die anymore.
Even more confusing is the fact that Jackson pulled me away when I figured he would have been the one to give me a push. Why did he do it? Why didn’t he just let me walk into the street? Isn’t that what he wanted… me dead?
“That’s it for today,” Mrs. Bay says, dragging me out of my thoughts, dismissing the class. “Assignments are due next week. Don’t be late because if you are, I’m deducting ten points for each day.”
I grab my book and notebook and stuff it into my backpack before getting up from my seat. Walking out, I spot two girls who were sitting beside me in the classroom. They spent most of the class gawking at me and whispering to each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were looking at my scar. I should be used to it, especially now that I’ve stopped wearing makeup, but I don’t think I ever will be. The reminder of it all hurts too much.
Shaking it off, I walk past them and out the door, but not before I hear one of them say, “I heard she wrecked her car while driving drunk. Killed someone too.”
“She should be in jail, not college...”
Their words steal the air from my lungs. How do they know about the accident? About Jillian? Pain slices through me, but I force my legs to keep walking. The ground moves beneath my feet, and suddenly I feel like I can’t get away fast enough.