Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
“You want to take these coffees to go?” he asks. “Take a little walk around campus and see if we can get into anything?”
“Sure,” I say and rise to my feet. “Let me brush my hair real quick.”
I head into my bathroom, but before I pick up my brush, my phone buzzes on the countertop. Of course, I grab it fast, heart already racing before I read the screen.
Instagram: Ace Kelly posted for the first time in a while.
I tap it without thinking, which takes me directly to his latest post.
It’s a photo of the campus fountain—the same one he “died” in for the Double C event last night. It’s blurry, taken at night, the water catching light in this weird, moody way. The caption is short: “Reincarnation is a myth.”
That’s it. That’s all he wrote. But it feels like a scream from the universe that life, post-Ace-and-Julia-blowup, is really moving on.
My throat tightens, and I set the phone facedown, pressing my hands to my eyes.
Last night, I had a best friend named Ace. But today, he might as well be a stranger.
Monday, September 15th
Ace
At the start of this semester, I looked forward to Mondays. The start of a new week where I was putting my big “make Julia fall in love with me” plan into action.
I rearranged everything at the beginning of this year to be as close to her as I could get.
And it was worth it back then. You know, when Julia smiled when she sat next to me and wore my hoodie to class like it was no big deal. When she shared her notes with me and studied with me because I am in no way smart enough to be in any of these fucking classes.
But that was back then—when Julia felt like she was mine.
Mondays now feel like sentencing day for a cruel and unusual punishment—class, with her not speaking to me, all day, every day, all week long. If there were a judge to beg, I’d be asking for a stint in maximum security instead.
I head toward my third class of the day, my feet dragging as I pass people I know. They wave and smile and try to stop me to chat, but I do my best to keep moving because it was hard enough to get myself out of bed today. Small talk and shit isn’t something I can sit through.
I’ve already skipped my first two classes, was tempted to skip all my fucking classes, but Double C already has me behind on so much coursework, I forced myself to get it together today.
I walk into the lecture hall for English 111—an advanced literary study course that, judging by my use of grammar on a daily basis, I should be banned from ever taking. Of course, I spot Julia instantly. She’s sitting in the front row, and right beside her is her stupid fucking boyfriend, Drew. Normally, I’d be the one in the seat beside hers but not today. Not anymore. Now she’s chummy with Drewchebag, smiling at something he’s saying, and sitting there like this is any other day.
It’s not. At least, not for me. It’s been over twenty-four hours since I told Julia I’m in love with her and she all but stomped on my fucking heart.
It’s as if the last few months never even happened.
It’s as if all the time and effort I put into my big plan to make her fall in love with me vanished into her boyfriend’s fucking bushy eyebrows.
Does he know we kissed the other night?
Does he know I told her I’m in love with her?
Does he know he doesn’t fucking deserve her?
Does Yoko think he’s his new dad because he’s been at Julia’s apartment and not me?
Fuck me.
So many questions that I don’t have the answers to. But it’s hard to get answers when the one person who can give them to you isn’t talking to you. Though, I guess I’m not talking to her either.
I’m too busy living an emotional loop of her calling me manipulative and violating. I’m too busy coming out of my fucking skin.
I take the farthest seat in the room, behind some guy with a neck tattoo and a laptop covered in band stickers. Though, I don’t bother pulling mine out. I don’t think I could focus enough to type my own name, let alone take notes.
I almost forget that this is the one and only class I have with Scottie and Finn until they slide into the lecture hall a few minutes later, mid-conversation, and half-eaten bagels from the dining hall poised in Scottie’s lap. Finn pushes Scottie’s wheelchair to the row I’m in and sits beside me, totally oblivious to the fact that I’m currently trying not to drown in my own chest.
“Did you read the article he assigned?” Scottie whispers around a mouthful of bagel and cream cheese.