You’re Mine by Penny Brooks

Chapter 122

Chapter 122

Easton

It's weird not having my phone.

And not being able to text my girl when I literally want to bang my head against my own locker, add in a few slams, then get high so my anxiety slows down all because I just need her.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still livid as fucking hell that she didn't tell her parents about me.

And let's be honest, I'm still embarrassed that I was eating her out under a mother fucking Christmas tree while both the Santa figurine and baby Jesus watched. Son of a bitch. I'm going to hell, aren't I?

I start to sweat as I think about all the ways I'll burn for shoving my head between her thighs while her mom walked in.

I pull my beanie down over my eyes and groan when the bell rings. Thank. God. I need my phone.

I need Harper.

It's been stressful since the cabin, her sickness, grades, upcoming finals and just everything, everything seems to be causing both of us to pull more apart just when I felt like things were finally getting better.

Add in fucking Blake and yeah, maybe I do need to just store edibles in my locker and pretend they're actual candy.

I barely make it to my locker when I see Ryan approach, and he looks just as tired as I feel. “School blows,’ he groans and leans against it.

"I can't wait to be done with all of this shit."

I put in my History book and slam my locker closed. “Something happen in Pre—Cal that I don't know about?

do that Mr. Clark is dumber than a box of rocks and

“He called me Bryan,”

Ryan says. "Three times.”

I needed that laugh. Did

and I was fucking annoyed. He pointed his stapler

experience that made

going good, too good, I just have a weird feeling, one that tells me it

"You

you

can't unhear, bro, some things scar you for life, you fucking ruined holiday

Jesus toward the window along with the little lamb because I felt guilty on

just a lot. Don't people always say senior year is supposed

ever talks about the

“All the stress,"

head toward the hallway behind me. "Speaking of

me on the back. "The same way she did when our grandma died so... may the odds

mom of all people—and not only that,

has my teeth clenching and my sperm most likely dying out

need

her flinch and pull back as more tears flow. People are watching. I have no clue what to do and almost

see the picture of Leigh and grab Harper by the wrist, pulling her down the hall and outside so that people can't hear, can't see, can't

because

Hell. Do. I.

to rain when you're a senior in high school and dealing with drama and trying not to have

the photo of Leigh. Her tits could not be any more visible, obvious, huge, damning. "I

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