Page 21 of Giving Up


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He looks down at his phone again, tap-tap, and gives it back to me. The texts from my twin break my heart into a million pieces.

Rose:I’m drunk af. Pick me up.

Rose:Ok maybe more than drunk.

Rose: I punched 3 in the face for that text. I think he hates me now.

Rose:If you don’t pick me up, I’ll happily partake in a gangbang.

Rose:3 doesn’t hate me anymore. The power of good pussy.

Rose:Do you think Jake would get jealous as fuck if he knew I sleep in Jamie’s bed when Nate kicks me out?

Rose: I hope not.

Rose:I love him.

Rose:I miss him. Please tell me where he is.

My throat tightens so hard I have to scratch it. The pressure building behind my eyes is unbearable.

Rose:I know Bianco is keeping him away.

Rose: If he doesn’t let him come back soon. I’m gonna kill myself earlier than planned. Tell Bianco I will do it. I promise I will.

“Earlier than planned?” I murmur, my heart breaking.

I’m brought back to reality when Sam snatches his phone back.

“That was last night by the way. Since you’re so keen on making the decisions yourself, I’ll give you the evening to think about it. My plane leaves at eight tomorrow morning.”

He walks to the door, and I get the feeling it’s because he feels the same as I do.

“Sam,” I say as he’s opening the door. He slightly turns to me. “That 3 guy–”

“Is dead,” he cuts me off, and I can feel the fury rolling off him.

“Was it an ‘accident’?” I ask, voice dripping in sarcasm.

I thought he’d at least pretend it was. At least pretend he wasn’t a jealous bastard obsessed with my sister.

“No. I put a bullet between his eyes.” He leaves and closes the door quietly as if not a worry in the world.

For some reason, I don’t hate him as much as I used to.

CHAPTER 5

Glad He’s Gone – Tove Lo

Jamie

I grab my red pen and look at the essay Cole just gave me.

“Ouch, Cole. There’s a grammar mistake in every sentence,” I murmur.

“Do you really have to use the red pen,” he sighs.

It makes me giggle and I look up at him. “Focus on eating and I’ll focus on your essay. Little boy gotta become big for the tournament.” I eye the two plates in front of him and he laughs.

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