Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
I’m dressed and ready to go in exactly eight minutes.
My mother rushes me out of my room and down the stairs, where my father is waiting in the lobby. He barely spares us a glance. “You’re late.”
“I’m sorry,” I mutter in apology under my breath.
“Lateness is unladylike,” he grumbles harshly.
“I understand, I won’t be late again.” The diamond choker around my neck feels more like a restraining collar than a pretty, expensive necklace that was gifted to me on my birthday.
On our way to the venue, my stomach feels bloated. It’s painful and profoundly uncomfortable, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I fidget in my seat, and the lulling movement of the Range Rover has my stomach roiling with nausea, but I keep swallowing it down.
My throat burns with acidic bile. Deep breath, I remind myself. Just like I’ve read online.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
When the car comes to a halt, I release a shuddering breath and plaster on a fake smile before stepping out. It’s a smile I’ve mastered. The one that tells people that Riley is in control, even when she’s spiraling out of it.
The one that speaks of confidence, even though she’s shriveling from the inside.
I am Riley Johnson: poised and confident. Calm, cool and collected. The perfect lady that my mother raised and my father expects me to be.
They see what I want them to see.
And it’s always been like that for as long as I can remember.
Dutiful, quiet, ladylike.
My mother and father walk inside, her hand around the curve of his elbow. They truly look like a power couple, walking with utmost confidence and authority.
I follow quietly behind them, ignoring the camera flashes.
Only I know that their marriage is loveless. An arrangement to further my father’s political career. My father needed an upper-class bride, and my mother needed a man with great wealth and social standing. Their marriage is a sham, and I am the unpleasant result of their fake love.
The air is cool inside, but I tense when I see the people — all of them in their fancy dresses and suits, champagne glasses in their hands and judgmental looks in their eyes.
The temperature rises in my body, and I suddenly feel suffocated.
I’m always on my best behavior during any social gathering, with my pretty smiles as I converse with anyone who approaches me. But I hate it.
I hate the crowd.
I hate the voices.
I hate the soft playing orchestra in the background.
I hate every sound that mingles together and my ears start to itch. My throat closes up, and I have to force myself to swallow past the heavy lump that’s lodged in my throat.
But my smile never once falters.
Socializing is a skill I’ve mastered since I was a little girl, but I don’t enjoy it one bit.
A server hands me a fruit punch mocktail and I take it with a sweet smile, quietly thanking him before finding myself a lonely corner to stand. I watch the people interact with each other; except, I can’t help but think how all of this is so…fake.
These events are the ultimate power trip. A place where gossip festers, secret rivalries are made and worst of all — reputations are ruined by extremely judgmental, rich brats.
I’m sipping on my mocktail when my gaze falls on someone familiar. Someone I recognize. Someone I never want to see at these types of events.
Our eyes meet from across the room, and I blink in astonishment. The social mask I’ve been wearing, the one that covers my emotions and the ugliness that resides in me, cracks open.
He sees it — my shock and dismay at seeing him.
And Jasper smirks knowingly.
But how can I be so stupid?
I should have known he would be here. I should have expected it, at least. Except it completely slipped my mind earlier, while my mother was rushing me to get dressed.
Now Jasper is here. We’re in the same room, and this is not Berkshire Academy, with students our own age. This is a public gathering, with cameras and disparaging eyes from well-established adults.
Shit.
Fear creeps back into my heart and I lick my lips. Gripping my glass harder, I try to hide the way my hands shake. I move toward my father, and when I’m close enough, I grab onto his elbow. More for support than anything else. I need something— someone to keep me upright.
“Did you know Jasper was going to be here tonight?” I whisper to him, as he briefly gives me his divided attention.
He stares at me blankly, and I already have my answer before he responds. “What did you expect?” His tone is stiff, almost as if he finds me bothersome.
I swallow, almost choking on my saliva. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
“What’s there to warn you about?” he scoffs. “Stop acting like a petulant child, Riley. Don’t embarrass me here.”