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So why the hell should I let Kai take that from me? Because he hasn’t just hijacked my life, he’s stolen from Taylor. I should be at a dumb dance with my girlfriend, not having a panic attack on the side of the road. Shaking my head in disgust, I grab my discarded sweater and pull it on. Then I reach for the gearshift and put the Jeep in drive. For the first time in my life, I find the courage to respect myself.
Damn finally
“We get it, okay? You’re a miserable cunt who mistakes bitchiness for a personality. Get a fucking life and get off my dick.”
👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
“Damn it, T, I’m trying to say I’m in love with you.”
“Coach Jensen,” I say, feeling like I’m going to choke on my own tongue, “this is Max Saban, my stepfather.”
Oh shit
One of those corporate PR shots. Then he places the phone on the table between us and zooms in. Behind him, beside all the awards and plaques, is a framed photograph of my mom and me.
“Hey superstar! Can we get a picture?” “Can I have your autograph?” “Where do I sign up for the live cam?” That sounds…specific. Quite oddly so.
Oh no
“I’m sorry, Conor. It’s over.”
No now you’re pissing me off
“I don’t want you as a boyfriend, okay? Are you happy now?” The gun was loaded that time. Bullet goes right through my chest. “Like, seriously, Conor, you’re a great guy and you’re good looking, but what else do you have going on? You have no idea what you want to do with the rest of your life. You have no ambition. No plan or prospects. And that’s fine for you. You can live in your parents’ house and hang out on the beach for the rest of your life. Well, I want more for myself. It was fun, but next year we’ll be seniors and I’m ready to grow up. You’re not.”
Okay no you’re a bitch. You hit him in his insecurities to make it hurt more
“Edwards!” someone thunders. A car rolls up, and from the driver’s side window Chad Jensen pokes his head out. “What the hell are you doing running around with no pants on? Put your damn cock away!”
