Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
He puts his bag down and places his palm against the metal door, lightly knocking against it with his hand in a few places, but I get the feeling he’s listening more than trying to fix the jam. “Usually when they stick, there’s something blocking the mechanism on the other side. Is your locker pretty full?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
He nods, lightly smacking the locker door with his palm. “Might want to clean it out.” He leans his knee against the locker down below and says, “Come over here and try the combination again.”
I do, and like magic, it pops right open.
“I swear, I smack the shit out of it for ten minutes, and you come over and give it a light tap and the thing opens. Maybe I loosened it up for you,” I say lightly, reaching into my locker to pull out the books I need to take home.
“Sometimes it’s better to use careful, deliberate movements than to be blatantly forceful. Saves more of your energy that way, too.”
“Well, thank you.”
“No problem.” He picks up his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “So, what’s been going on with you lately? We haven’t talked much this week.”
“I’ve just been busy.”
“You’re not mad because I was hanging out with Stephen last weekend, are you?”
I frown, turning to look at him. “What?”
He shrugs, dropping my gaze. “It kinda seemed like you wanted to come over that one day, but I wasn’t home. And it kinda seems like you’ve been avoiding come over since then.”
Does he not know I came over, anyway?
“No, I’m not mad. I picked up a shift last night. I was working on homework and stuff Monday and Tuesday. Just busy.”
“All right,” he says. “I just wanted to make sure.”
“We’re good,” I assure him.
He nods and adjusts the strap on his shoulder. “So, since you’re not mad and definitely not avoiding me,” he begins, playfully, “what would you say about going to a party with me tomorrow night?”
“A party?”
He nods. “Josh McClain’s having a party, and I guess my association with you has won me some cool points because he said we should come.”
I roll my eyes. “Josh McClain is a bag of dicks. Why would I ever want to go to his party?”
“We don’t have to hang out with him or anything. It’s a party, I’m sure plenty of people will be there. We can do our own thing. I’ve just never been to one.” He shrugs. “Might be cool.”
“It’s not, trust me. I have been to those parties and all they do is get drunk on Bud Light and cheap vodka while the jocks play beer pong. The highlights include rapey douches trying to corner you and shove their tongues down your throat, and some poor idiot crying because her drunk-ass boyfriend is being a dick. Occasionally, someone also makes Hot Pockets. Those parties are only fun if you’re trashed yourself, and I’m not really in the mood to get drunk this weekend.”
“We don’t have to get drunk to have fun.”
“There’s literally nothing else to do,” I tell him. “Why do you want to go so bad, anyway? Will Brylee be there?”
“I don’t know, but whether she is or not, I’m sure she’d hear about it. It would be a new place to be seen together and get a picture to add to the story of our relationship.”
“Well, I can’t go, anyway,” I tell him, slamming my locker door shut and hoisting my bag on my shoulder. “I have to work tomorrow night.”
He follows me down the hall. “Maybe you could come over after you get off. We could watch a movie or something.”
I force a faint smile and glance over at him. “That wouldn’t be a new setting for a photo op.”
“No, but at least we could post something. A lot of time has passed since the last post. We don’t want it to look like we’re losing enthusiasm.”
“Have you even talked to Brylee?” I ask, watching his face. “Are there any signs any of this might even be working?”
“Not yet,” he answers, his expression clear so I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
Not that I should need to, but his stupid brother got in my head. He seemed so sure of himself, so undeterred by my explanations. It was like nothing I said was new information, like he’d heard it all and just didn’t believe it.
Not that he would even know.
It’s none of his business, honestly. He should butt out.
“It’s not a sprint, though, it’s a marathon. It’s important that we become an established couple. Right now we’re just laying the groundwork.”
“I’m not sure I agreed to all that,” I tell him. “I thought we would hang out a few times and you could tell one of your friends you felt me up or something. I didn’t think we had to establish a whole relationship.”