Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“Back where?” Damon smirks. “To the bunker?”
“What bunker?!” Nix shouts back, making me grit my teeth. The fucking lungs on her.
The two of them go back and forth. I ignore them, my mind on Kinsley. It’s been too long since I saw her. Two days isn’t a lot, but it’s close, and she didn't know I was even there.
That’s going to change. No more lurking in the shadows. It’s time I pulled her into them with me.
Chapter Two
KINSLEY
“Kinsley!” I cringe when I hear Mary shout my name. She may be tiny, but that woman is mighty. I can always tell by the way she says my name what is coming.
A few seconds later, Mary is barreling into the kitchen, my bag in one hand, the other holding up my vape pen. Yeah, I thought that might be the case. Mary isn’t my mother, but she acts like she is, and I’m not mad about it. A teen should not be getting in trouble at home.
The thing is, my parents aren’t ever around to get in trouble with. Guess that’s what happens when your parents are fancy doctors. You can’t even get upset when they don’t show up to your fourth-grade play because your dad was in surgery and your mom was working in one of the busiest ERs in the country.
They were saving lives while I was trying to remember all my lines from Matilda. I didn’t get the lead because I was a great actor. I got it because I could remember more lines than the others. For the record, I nailed them all. The lines, not the acting.
“Thanks, I was wondering where I put my bag.” I finish putting the strawberries onto my sandwich before I lick the peanut butter off my thumb. I eat this every day for lunch. I need to work on being less predictable.
I grab my notebook off the kitchen counter and scribble that note reminder down. I’m sure if I tab back a few pages or peek into one of my hundred other notepads, I have that same note.
“Kinsley.” Mary hisses my name this time.
“It’s nothing.” I take the vape from her first and then my bag, which I stuff it back into. Mary says something in Italian that I only catch a few words of. Out of the handful of languages my mother made me learn, Italian hadn't been one of them, but having been around Mary for over three years, I'm slowly picking it up. Not that I'll ever let her know that. So I play dumb. "What?"
"You have asthma. Tell me it's for your tea."
I snort a laugh. "Yes, it's part of me getting the tea." I laugh more. I suppose you could call me the gossip queen.
I'm always keeping my ear open to what everyone has to say, even if I'm pretending to care less. I always care when it comes to information. The more you know. If only I wanted to know about medical things, I might be more interesting to my parents. Yeah, that’s so not happening. Blood is gross.
“What kind of tea?” Mary asks, making me smirk. See? Everyone wants the tea. Mary grabs my Stanley to fill up for me. I need to head out soon.
“I really don’t have any yet, but it can come in handy if need be.” You should always be prepared. You never know what obstacle might be thrown your way that you have to wiggle your way out of.
“You would frame someone?” Mary accuses. She really does know me.
“A girl will do what she has to do.” Also, Juliet, Golden Prep’s resident rocker girl, likes to vape, and she is full of information. Those quiet ones notice all kinds of shit. I can be quiet when I need to be, but I’m not great at it.
“Don’t get in trouble.” Mary tries to scold me, but there’s nothing behind it.
“I can’t get in trouble.” The school would try to reach out to my parents, who would be unavailable and get a message. Then my parents would likely forget about that message.
“I’ll ground you.” Mary lifts her chin teasingly.
“Mar, you don’t have to ground me to get me to binge reality TV with you.”
“I’ll ground you from reality TV.” I gasp dramatically. “I joke. I joke.” Yeah, I figured, but I wasn’t going to call her on it. “What else do you want for your lunch?” She disappears into the pantry to return with small bags of chips and Gushers. Huh.
“You restocked.” I wiggle my brows. My parents stock this place with food that tastes like cardboard. They swear it's good for you, but it’s a hard pass for me.
“Of course I did.” Mary appears insulted by my question. We have a few sneaky bins we keep in the pantry. “You should take extra.” She pushes the extra bag of Gushers toward me. “In case you want to share it with a boy.”