Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Great.
I’d been turned into a drinking game.
That was the only time Mean Gazelle had smiled for real. She was enjoying my humiliation.
Whatever. I trudged back and forth, shouldering my boxes and bags. I didn’t have a ton of stuff, but enough that it took five different trips, and once I was done, I eyed the shower and the bed. I was torn, but my stomach growled.
The coffee had been my breakfast and lunch, and I knew myself. If I took a shower, or lay down, I wouldn’t want to get up till way later, and then I’d have a whole day go by without eating. Sighing, I washed up a tiny bit, then grabbed my purse and headed out to grab some food.
There was a fast food place a few blocks away, so I loaded up. I’d have to find a grocery store tomorrow, and get real food, but until then, I had two chicken sandwiches to tide me over.
After that, with their cheering and booing upstairs, I settled in.
I showered. I ate. I made my bed.
I began to unpack, and then around ten that night, I sat at my desk, hearing blissful silence above.
Well, that was following a bunch of yelling, feet stomping, doors opening and closing, then voices outside, and car doors shutting.
They had left the building.
What’d I do? Remain in my bedroom like a good little unwanted thing. It felt wrong going upstairs and checking out the rest of the house when I knew at least two of the girls didn’t want me here, so I pulled out my school map and planned my day for tomorrow.
It was the first day of classes, and I was registered, but I still needed to go and do all the extra stuff like get my picture taken for my I.D. Actually, get the I.D. Set up a meal plan since they were requiring one because of my late acceptance. Get my books at the store. Find the library, that was the most important. And then just walk the campus, find where all my classes were going to be.
Since I was switching to marine biology, I was excited for the lab portion of the classes. I did the prerequisites at the community college near where I grew up, so those were all done and aced, but I knew it would be harder at this level. I was still surprised I’d gotten into Texas C&B, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I was here. I was doing it.
I’d always wanted to be a marine biologist since I was little, and this was the right time to pursue it. My other career choices fell away. Counseling. A language interpreter. A speech pathologist. They hadn’t been the ones I really wanted, and life was short. I’d learned that a few times by now, so I was embracing it with both hands, but leaving my feet firmly planted on the ground.
Tired, but feeling an odd contentment, I crawled into bed at midnight.
Boom!
Thud!
“Fuck,” someone yelled.
More feet shuffling above.
I could hear the laughter.
They were back. I was guessing they’d gone to a party or the nearest bar.
Rolling over in bed, pulling my sheet up around me, my fan pointed right on me, I waited and hoped. Maybe they’d eat, do whatever drunk people did, and then go to bed.
Boom, boom, boom!
They turned on music. Loud bass pounded through the floorboards. I could almost hear them rattling, so I rolled over and did what any girl in my place would do. I muffled a scream into my pillow. It was a full-body scream, too. Even my toes got into it, twitching. I needed sleep. Like bad. Like I would get sick if I went too many nights in a row without a full eight hours, and let’s not get into why I wasn’t getting my sleep. That tied into the whole reason I came to Texas, but I know people would say they could survive off four hours a night. Yes. I could, too, but not five nights in a row. I was on night six.
I. Needed. My. Sleep.
But really, what was I actually going to do? I was the interloper here. I’d have to endure, and I did. Until four in the morning. And even after that, the music was lowered but it was still a soft beat until finally, I drifted off to sleep. I swear, I went to sleep dreaming about Stone throwing his football down on my head each time, and it corresponded with the techno music blaring through my alarm clock.
My alarm clock.
It was going off.
And waking, realizing that particular dream had been a nasty one, I sat up and I was in pain. A supersonic nap would be needed later on. Pronto. Stat. Don’t get me started. I was feeling a bit punchy here.