Page 120 of The Monster I Am
I am most definitely not the problem here.
This is exactly why I always say to trust your gut. I’ve spent the past few weeks trying to convince myself that I am the issue, but clearly I could sense something there—exactly like I was trained to do. It’s probably why Ry also felt strongly about Elliott.
“You’re being far beyond inappropriate,” I say, not bothering to hide my anger. “Touch me again and I’ll body slam you through the counter.”
Elliott holds up his hands. “Whoa,” he replies loudly, catching the attention of Jessa. “Sorry, buddy. It was a total accident. I was just in the zone,you feel me?”
“Is everything okay over here?” Jessa asks, walking over. She looks between us, concern in her chestnut eyes.
“Absolutely, Jess.” He nods, giving her a warm smile of reassurance. “We just accidentally had a little crashy crash. Completely my fault. I ran into poor Bex while she was making her coffee.” Frowning, he peels his shirt and apron strap to the side, touching a bruise on his skin. He lets out a little hiss, a wounded look crossing his face.
I’d have less of a reaction if Elliott clam-slammed me with a soggy turkey carcass. I gape at him, lost for words.
Jessa’s disparaging gaze flickers to me, face hardening. I can sense her scrutinizing me—the new girl bullying her long-time co-worker.
Oh, well played, you prickly butt plug.
“Come on,” Jessa says contemptuously to Elliott. “Let her have someneededspace then.” She wraps an arm around his shoulder, guiding him toward the register.
I’m still gobsmacked when Elliott checks me from over his shoulder, a piercing smirk accompanying the wink he throws my way.
Great. Now I have someone else to watch out for. Except I can’t just easily fix this like I normally would. I need this job.
My life depends on it.
Chapter thirty-eight
Bexley
“I’m going… todie,” Soph cries. “Help.”
“I can’t,” I whine. “If we touch each other, it’s a fail.”
The sounds coming from our mouths would probably make me die of sheer embarrassment on any other given day. But right now, I’m more concerned about actual death and making it to the end of this horrendous gym exam.
After we completed the theoretical proportion at the start of class time, we were ushered to the field for the physical test.
Distance run. Followed by pushups and situps.
And if that’s not all, apparently to finish we have to hold a plank for at least ninety seconds to successfully pass.
We’re fucked. No—actually.
My excitement about leaving Willowbrook is fading away like the oxygen deprivation occurring in my brain, becoming nothing more than a dream.
We’ve only just started the physical tests. Soph and I are desperately fighting for our lives on the track. I’m absolutely confident that, somehow, these bastards have made the tracklength longer overnight. We’re only halfway through the running section of the examination, and the thought of more torture after this, has me considering faking my death. Maybe they will award me a posthumous diploma out of pity.
I try to distract myself by searching for Ry, hoping that a glimpse of his shining, sweaty muscles might kick my cardio stamina into gear. But the insanely gorgeous love-of-my-life slash pain-in-the-ass is miles ahead, figuratively speaking, almost finished the distance run.
Dammit it!
“I love you,” I mumble pathetically to Soph. “Avenge me.”
“You’ll have to avenge me first,” she sniffles. “Oh, my God. I didn’t even get to sleep with Parker yet. This isn’t fair.”
I yelp, wheezing like I’m choking on glass. “You’re… going… to… ?” I run out of air before I can finish, but Soph understands the gist.
She stumbles slightly, arms flailing and flapping like one of those inflatable wacky waving tube guys. “I wanted to! Now I’m going to die a virgin. It’s not fair.”
