But what’s the point? It ended before it began.
Bree loops her arm through mine. “Gabby, don’t believe the gossip. Rider isn’t a fuckboy.”
Sienna and I give her the look, the one that says she’s full of it.
“Okay, hemighthave been in the past, but he’s not quite the same player he used to be.”
“Whatever.” I unhook my arm from hers. “Did he say what he needed? Because I have to go to work.”
“I think he’s just stressed about that project.” Poppy.
“Tell him to email me. I’ll call him tonight if it’s important.”
Maybe I can get away with filtering our conversations through email.
A girl can hope.
13
GABBY
This girl would be wrong.
Because Rider Kingston isnotexcited about emailing me.
From: [email protected]
Would you please unblock me? I need to talk to you ON THE PHONE. Or I can wait on your doorstep until you get home.
P.S. Did you forget how charming and persuasive I can be?
He ends the message with a winky emoji.
From: [email protected]
Calm down. NO NEED TO YELL AT ME. I forgot to unblock you. Simple mistake. But I’m at work, so this will have to wait until I get home. If this is about the test results, I don’t have them yet.
P.S. You must have me confused with another girl. I don’t recall anything particularly charming about you.
Lies. All lies. I remember all too well.
Maybe that’s enough to get him off my case. I’ll do anything to avoid having to speak to him in person or on the phone. Keeping my distance all this time has helped me keep my priorities straight. Besides, I’m not about to drop everything to help him like every other woman in his life likely does.
But then my email dings, and I roll my eyes because of course he says he still needs to speak with me.
Annoying.
I quickly tuck away my phone and paste on a smile when Mr. Barstow, the assistant principal of Archer Academy, darts into the copy room where I’m collating a presentation for tonight’s board meeting.
I’m about to ask if I can help him when he barks, “I need two hundred copies, double-sided, ASAP,” slaps the form on the counter, and disappears out the door.
My smile drops. “Sure. No problem. And, hey, no thanks necessary.”
Unfortunately, this has been typical of my experience here. The staff is curt, the students are demanding, and the job is tedious. If I ever had daydreams of sharing myCrucibleunit with teachers and discussing literature over mildly burnt coffee, my shifts here have disabused me of that notion.
