You’re Mine by Penny Brooks novel 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?

Or is this just you bitching like you always do that Mr. Clark is dumber than a box of rocks and needs to retire?"

“He called me Bryan,”

Ryan says. "Three times.”

I bust up laughing. "Damn, I needed that laugh. Did you at least respond?"

"Yeah, because he kept going, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, and I was fucking annoyed. He pointed his stapler at me.

It was an entire experience that made me want to toss my desk."

He frowns. "Honestly, things with Sadie are going good, too good, I just have a weird feeling, one that tells me it can't always be like this and after..."

He hesitates. "You know the... desecration."

I glare. "Must you bring it up?”

"Some things you can't unhear, bro, some things scar you for life, you fucking ruined holiday decorations for my entire family.

I couldn't sleep and had to turn baby Jesus toward the window along with the little lamb because I felt guilty on your behalf.”

He shudders. “Anyways, it's just a lot. Don't people always say senior year is supposed to be the best?

Nobody ever talks about the stress.”