Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“And I didn’t think you’d actually stay broken up.”
Neither did I. Guess that was the naïvety of young love. Me thinking that Wolf and I would always come back to each other. Brent had played his part, but the fact was, Wolf hadn’t fought for me. And I hadn’t fought for him. Both too hurt to just face each other.
“Yeah, well, he moved on with Nora, so he can’t have been that in love with me.”
“You don’t think you going away with Brent for the summer had anything to do with that?”
“We were friends!”
“He loved you, Jade. Really loved you.” She pulled into the middle lane to pass a truck. “Losing you broke him. Nora was—”
“Fucking his tears away?”
“Men are idiots. They get over heartbreak by trying to fall in love again.” She fiddled with her air vent, as though there were a way to cool down her sweatbox car. “He never looked at her like he did you. He looked at her like…well, a faceless bit of meat? Only with a side of guilt, maybe?”
I didn’t want to think about how he’d looked at Nora. Even hearing her name had hurt feelings churning in my stomach. “Is there a point to this conversation?”
“Yeah, I want to know why, when Wolf clearly still loves you, and you clearly still love him, you’re riding in this damn car with me instead of off into the sunset.”
I squirmed at that question. It was never that black and white. “I told you—”
“I swear to God, if you say he doesn’t want you again…” She shook her head. “That must be why he rejected all the ditzy blondes Hendrix invited over for him last night and left the party to see you. Why he got you out of that auction and drove you home yesterday.”
She didn’t even know about him helping me.
“But you’re right, he clearly doesn’t give a shit. Doesn’t want you. Definitely doesn’t love you.” She reached for the radio like she was done with my shit. “You two are the most frustrating people. Do yourselves a favor and open your damn eyes before you spend another year being butthurt and stupid.”
With that, she turned the music up. When she put it like that, it did all feel kind of stupid—and terrifying. All I could think of was the way I’d felt when he’d turned me down on Tuesday night in that barn. If I admitted I loved him, that I thought everything had been a mistake, and he rejected me…it would be one hundred times worse than that. But what if he didn’t? What if he felt the same?
Cassie was already at work for another double when Monroe dropped me off at the frat house. None of the guys were around while I did my stupid chores—how they’d made so much of a mess with just the three of them, in barely thirty-six hours, I could not fathom.
When I was done, I changed for work and caught the bus into town.
The red glow of the Roller Burger sign spilled over the street, like some poor attempt at the Red Light District of Amsterdam. Although, I was fairly certain the scantily clad blonde leaned against the streetlight on the corner was actually a hooker.
The parking lot was empty, the same way it always was on a Sunday night. No one wanted to work this shift, but I always said yes. Even if I got no tips, the crappy hourly rate was something. Plus, all the Sunday staff felt the same, and no one cared if I did some schoolwork between the rare customers.
I clocked in, plopped down onto one of the benches under the awning, and changed into my skates.
“I hate a Sunday double.” Cassie rolled to a stop beside me and sat down. “Guess how many Jesus flyers I got today?”
The post-church crowd always came in for an early lunch. Again, only one reason anyone came to Roller Burger, and being a pervert wasn’t very Godly. But oh, how they liked to ram it down our throats while checking out our asses. They “tipped” with the holy spirit and church leaflets. Cheap assholes.
Cassie pulled at least five crumpled leaflets for the same church out of her apron pocket.
“Well, at least you’ll have lots of sky daddy points.”
“Only one way I’m going when I pop my clogs.”
“Pretty sure the devil will send you back, Cass.”
“He can try.” She grinned. “I reckon he’s hot though, so…”
“My mother would say you need Jesus.” She needed something, that was for sure.
“Mine too. How was it? Going home?”
I knew she was asking about my dad without asking. “Good. Same old.” In more ways than one. Same old dad refusing to be reasonable. Same problems. Poverty, illness, Wolf. Same old making out at The Lookout like we used to when we were teenagers…