AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And when I stop, it all comes flooding back. How Cadence won’t leave me the hell alone. The way Matthews sneers at me every time I so much as glance in his direction. How his mean secretary makes me staple endless packets of bullshit every day during second period, locking me away in a stifling office the size of a cardboard box while I can hear her and Daisy laughing at their desks.
Fuck, the sound of Daisy’s laughter. It’s light and pretty and…perfect. It lightens my heart and eases my morose thoughts, even when I’m stuck in that office doing mindless work and mentally cursing Matthews for putting me through this torture.
The sweet torture of Daisy’s laughter and not being able to see her when it happens? That’s even worse.
I scrub a hand over my face, my steps faltering. I almost trip over my own feet and I come to a stop, breathing heavily as I rest my hands on my hips, quickly realizing that I’m not too far from the garden Daisy’s father keeps.
Those damn rose bushes sit in a line on the other side of the garden, the branches still heavy with blooms. I stare at them, idly wondering which color is Daisy’s favorite.
I’d go with the yellow roses, but that’s too obvious. The red ones are beautiful. Deep in color and giving me blood vibes, which means I’m demented and sick and I need to think about sunshine and sweet things, not death.
Maybe it’s the orange roses. I didn’t even know they could be that color, but there they are, waving at me on their branches when a gentle breeze sweeps through, ruffling my hair. Drying the sweat that coats my skin.
I hear the sound of hinges creaking, the slam of a door, and within seconds, there’s someone walking toward the rose bushes, a giant floppy hat covering her head, the handle of a bucket clutched in her hand.
Fucking Daisy.
Like a perv, I sneak behind a nearby hedge, peeking around it so I can spy on her. There’s no one around. The entire campus is eerily silent and I slip my phone out of my pocket to check the time.
It’s not even seven yet.
I return my gaze to Daisy, watching as she moves down the row of rose bushes, a pair of clippers in her hand as she snips off the dying buds. She never cuts off the newly-bloomed flowers and I wonder why. My mother always has the gardener bring in fresh flowers that she would arrange in vases throughout our house in the Hamptons during the summer.
Daisy leaves them to grow, though I can tell she likes them. She bends over one of the deep red ones, breathing deep and inhaling the scent, a shocked sound leaving her when she backs away with a breathless laugh.
A bee flies out of the flower, buzzing away and Daisy pushes the hat out of the way so it falls to rest against her back, holding on by a string around her neck. She tilts her face toward the sky, closing her eyes and something tugs at my heart. At the way she enjoys the early morning light bathing her face. How she’s completely alone and absorbing the beautiful morning, while I stand behind a shrub like a goddamn stalker watching her.
Turning, I walk away, disgusted with myself. With the choices I’ve made and the attitude I have. I should change. I should be better.
But I don’t want to. This is who I am.
Whether I like it or not.
* * *
“Who reads during lunch?”
JJ makes this observation in his usual sardonic tone, but no one else is paying attention to him. I guess except for me.
“What are you talking about?” I ask because I know he wants me to. Truly, I don’t give a damn.
We’re in the dining hall for lunch, sitting at our usual table, surrounded by others from our social circle, including a few girls, such as Cadence. She’s sitting on the opposite end of the table though so at least she’s not trying to catch my attention or worse, touching me. I don’t know how many times I have to blatantly ignore her or tell her to her face that I’m not interested—she doesn’t get the hint.
Her persistence is almost admirable.
“That one. Over there.” JJ inclines his head in the direction he wants me to look and I almost groan out loud when I see who he’s talking about.
Daisy sitting alone at a table, her face buried in a book. The cover is illustrated with what looks like a couple wrapped up in each other in a tight hug, and though it’s colorful and bright, that is definitely not a children’s book.
At least she’s not sitting with my sister.
“Wait a minute. That’s jail bait.” JJ laughs and I glare.
I don’t like him calling her that. Inferring that he might be interested in her sexually—he needs to take his diseased dick and keep it far, far away from Daisy.
“Oh God. He’s talking about Daisy Albright.” This comes from Cadence, who was eavesdropping on our conversation. Typical. “She’s so annoying.”
“She’s sonice,” Mya adds. She’s Cadence’s best friend and I can tolerate her a little more than Cadence. Barely. “No one is that nice.”
