Forbidden French Read Online R.S. Grey

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
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I realize this tight feeling weighing me down is sadness at the idea that he would bring her here, to our place.

I let my rose roll off my fingers and drop onto the grass before turning back to walk to my dorm.

I have a harder time than usual sleeping. I try to go under my blankets with a reading light and a book, but Blythe gets angry, so I give up and lie there in bored silence, staring up at the ceiling.

I wonder if I’ll be doing stuff like that when I’m Emmett’s age. It’s hard to even imagine, not just because I don’t know exactly what they were doing, but because I can’t think of one boy who would want to be down there on that dock with me.

The next morning, I wake up and get ready, brushing out my long hair until it shines then pushing it back away from my face with one of my plaid headbands. After dressing in my uniform, I pick navy flats from my closet and accessorize with the dainty gold heart necklace my grandmother gave me for my thirteenth birthday. I even brave a quick trip to the dining hall to eat breakfast before heading to chemistry.

After I eat, I’m walking in the courtyard, trying to get from one building to another with as little interference as possible. I’ve learned that keeping my head down seems to provoke the assholes less. If only I could disappear altogether…

I’m cutting across the center of the path, near the fountains with antiquity-inspired sculptures of water nymphs, when someone steps in front of me, blocking my way. I stop myself just before I collide with Blythe. Behind her, like a pair of cronies, Lavinia and Nellie stand with their arms crossed as if they’re daring me to try to cut past them.

Immediately, I feel the color drain from my face.

Interacting with me in public isn’t done by students who want any sort of social life. Blythe decreed me untouchable, and the kids in my grade are nothing if not loyal minions to their overlord, who’s currently beaming with excitement.

Really, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look happier than she does right now.

Knowing it’s time to get a move on if I want to make it out of here in one piece, I take a step to the right. Blythe follows.

I cut back to the left, but she predicted my move.

I sigh and cross my arms, trying to disguise the fact that I now have a death grip on my book bag. They’ve stolen things from me before, and I can’t let it happen again. I have algebra homework in my bag that I need to turn in to Mr. Fisher after chemistry, and I don’t think I’ll have time to redo it if they decide to take it.

I brace for impact just as she begins.

“Did you really think you would get away with it?”

She looks back at Lavinia and Nellie, and the three of them all cackle like she’s never said anything funnier.

“It’s sooo pathetic,” Nellie says, pinching her face into a grimace like she’s embarrassed on my behalf.

Students are starting to gather now, eager for front-row seats to The Blythe Show.

She looks out at the forming crowd, and her eyes gleam with power. She lives for the spotlight, no matter the cost.

“Have you guys seen this?” she asks, holding out a small piece of paper for them to look at.

The crowd leans in for a good look, and she obliges them.

She doesn’t even have to finish her next sentence before my world implodes. As soon as I hear her say “Look what she keeps under—” I know what they’ve found.

I know she will say “her pillow,” and I know she will follow it up with “His picture!”

“Whose?” someone in the back shouts.

“Emmett’s!”

No last name required. At this school, in this life, there’s only one Emmett that matters.

“Oh my god, she loves him,” a girl from my English class declares.

A boy I recognize from art says, “She cut his picture out of the yearbook like some kind of stalker.”

The word freak hisses through the air, landing like an arrow in my heart.

“There’s probably more too.”

Whoever says this, I can’t tell. Tears are already starting to crowd the corners of my eyes. Soon they’ll drop.

“You need to be careful, Blythe. I can’t believe you have to sleep right next to her.”

For a moment I imagine what my mom would do in this situation, the words she’d have for these people. She’d eviscerate them. They would bow at her feet by the time she was done.

And for what it’s worth, I do try. My jaw ticks. My lips part, but then the first tear falls, stalling my courage and my words.

Collette, an older girl who hangs out with Emmett and his friends, slices through the crowd and steps across the invisible boundary separating me from everybody else.


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