Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96790 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96790 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Hello, Raven.”
Unease washes over me, but I force my eyes back to the court, and sure as shit, amongst the crazy, Maddoc and Captain both spotted the piece of shit move my way.
“What do you want, Perkins?”
“I got a very interesting transfer slip on my desk this morning, Ms. Carver.”
I freeze, and I’m pretty sure my eyes widen, because Maddoc’s frown deepens, but he takes off, the ball now in his hand and I shift to see him better.
In the same second, Perkins lays his hand on my arm, and I spin, yanking away from him.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I spit through clenched teeth and a mocking laugh leaves him.
The crowd groans and when my eyes flash back to the court, Maddoc’s hands are swiping down his face in frustration, the ball now with the opposing team as the final buzzer sounds.
“Thanks for all your help, Ms. Carver.”
“Don’t get it twisted,” I force through clenched teeth. “I’d never do a damn thing to purposely help you.”
He steps down, turning back to face me as he does. “You have a good night. Can’t wait for the next game.” He smirks and walks away.
I wish I could tackle his ass to the ground.
I look to the scoreboard.
There goes Brayshaw High’s Varsity Basketball team’s perfect record. The last chance the boys had at a seamless high school season.
Everyone will assume they simply couldn’t pull it off, they’ll say they were bound to have an off game at some point during the season.
Nobody around knows about the events of this weekend.
I had more than a few curious glances in school today, caught several staring at the cut on my lip and bruise on the side of my face that started to show even more the longer the day went on. The concealer I have is cheap, so I couldn’t keep it covered all day. When you mix my appearance with the way the four of us sat staring into space at lunch today, the crazy of tonight’s game, and Perkins’ fake friendly smiles just now, I guarantee the rumor ring’s firing on all cylinders right now. Not to mention how the three are known to tune out the world when on the court in uniform and were seen paying more mind to me than the game tonight. Yeah, people are gonna talk.
Fuck them.
I don’t even consider moving from my seat as the team exits and the crowd disperses.
As I expected, Bass attempts to talk to me, but I shake my head and look away. He knows damn well I’m not interested in his backward worries – too little too late.
The guys take longer than normal in the locker room this time, likely getting reamed by their coach, and when they do come out, they’re the only ones to step through the double doors.
All three sets of eyes zone in on me, making sure I’m still where they left me.
They slow their steps enough for me to catch up and together we head for Captain’s Denali.
Once we’re all seated, they take a few deep breaths before turning the engine over.
My stomach turns as anxiousness begins to grow inside me.
Any time now they’ll start in, demanding answers, and no matter how many times I’ve played out the conversation in my head, preparing myself for possible questions and coming up with preplanned answers, none of them are believable.
I’m not even sure I could flat out lie to their faces when it came down to it.
Thankfully, they seem just as damn done with the day as me.
Captain heads straight for the house, dinner is skipped, and everyone moves for their own rooms. They lock themselves inside, so I do the same.
I throw myself back on the mattress, sucking in a lung full of air.
Perkins said he got a transfer form on his desk today. That happened so much faster than I anticipated.
My time with them is almost up.
After an hour of sitting on the couch, waiting for at least one of the boys to come down, it’s clear not one of them plans on going to school today, all three are likely burnt out after the last few days with little to no chill time. And I sure as shit couldn’t care less about going, so I head into the kitchen to try and find some kind of food I can make on my own.
I scan through all their fresh ingredients and weird worded foreign shit I’ve never even seen before, let alone tried, digging out an old pack of Eggos. I’m pretty sure they’re covered in freezer burn, but I go for it anyway. It’s not like I’ve never eaten old or expired food that people claim is still good.
Nothing in my house ever lasted long enough to get old, but everything that came from the church was a solid week or more past the ‘best by’ or expiration date. The only thing that didn’t come expired was the milk, when we were lucky enough to get it.