Can't Hardly Breathe. Gena Showalter

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      Dorothea smiled. She had two long-term goals: become a meteorologist, and have a large family. She’d always been fascinated by weather, in all its many forms, and the more kids she had, the more people who would be obligated to adore her. Now, however, she added a third goal: enchant Daniel.

      What career did he want for himself? What college did he hope to attend?

      As her teacher droned on and on, Dorothea watched the clock, desperate for lunch hour to arrive so she could see Daniel. What if he invited her to sit at his table?

      What if his friends teased him about spending time with her?

      Her stomach twisted into sharp little knots. Maybe she should admire Daniel from afar. Just until she’d changed her social status from dead to alive.

      But shouldn’t he like her regardless of her station?

      By the time first...second...and third periods ended, she’d worked herself into a lather about whether or not to approach Daniel. Was she reaching too high too fast? Oh, crap, she was, wasn’t she? When had anyone ever wanted her?

      Dorothea trudged to the cafeteria. When she spotted a smirking Harlow, she whipped around and rushed to the band room, her sanctuary, as if her feet were on fire.

      She would be brave tomorrow.

      She glanced over her shoulder as she turned the doorknob. Spotting Jessie Kay, who may or may not have noticed her, she quickly and quietly shut herself inside. The lights were out. Good. If Harlow had given chase, she might not think to look here. And if she did look here, she might not see Dorothea in the shadows.

      Coward! Shame coated her skin like a sticky film. This isn’t strong, and this isn’t brave. Daniel would never fall for—

      A low moan drifted through the air.

      Oh, crap! Someone had beaten her to the hideaway. Someone injured?

      Dorothea rounded two rows of ceiling-high shelves, each stacked with different musical instruments and—

      “Mmm, that feels good.”

      The voice dripped with pleasure, not pain, and struck Dorothea with the force of a lightning bolt. Madison Clark.

      “You like that, sweetheart?”

      Ice crystalized in her veins. That voice belonged to Daniel. The love of her life...the boy she’d hoped liked her back.

      He was here with Madison Clark. And he’d called the cheerleader sweetheart.

      “Yes, oh, yes,” Madison said, and moaned again.

      Dorothea’s hands balled as she continued trudging forward. She had to see this. Had to see Daniel’s betrayal up close and personal.

      What betrayal? She didn’t know. Only knew her insides were shredded.

      When she reached the end of the shelf, she peered through two flute cases—and swallowed a cry of despair. Daniel had Madison pinned against the wall. He towered over the girl, his wide shoulders engulfing her delicate frame.

      “Where did you learn—Oh!” Madison liquefied in his arms. “Don’t stop.”

      Daniel chuckled. Or purred. Dorothea wasn’t sure which. She fought for breath, her lungs pulverized like two slabs of chicken. This boy...he was the reason her heart beat, and the reason it broke into a million little pieces.

      He didn’t choose me. He chose her.

      He’s a fool. Just like Harlow.

      Worse, he was a liar. Dorothea wasn’t perfect. She would never be the girl a boy like Daniel desired.

      She sniffled, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Unnecessary. Neither Daniel nor Madison stopped what they were doing, too wrapped up in each other...

      This was for the best, Dorothea decided with a nod. If she and Daniel had dated, their names would sound stupid together. Daniel and Dottie. No, she hated Dottie all over again. Daniel and Dorothea. Dorothea and Daniel. The double Ds.

      Yeah. Stupid!

      A tear slid down her cheek.

      Daniel traced the tip of his tongue over Madison’s lips. “You made me chase you all summer, naughty girl.”

      “And now you’re going to punish me?” Madison dug her manicured nails into his nape to tug him closer.

      “No. Now I’m going to reward you.” His hand—

      Oh, my stars! His hand delved between Madison’s legs!

      Dorothea spun, her chest burning as if she’d been doused in acid. She needed to leave the band room. She needed to leave the building. Now.

      “Don’t stop,” Madison said. “Pleeease. I want my reward.”

      He gifted her with another husky chuckle. “All right, but I’m skipping lunch to do this for you...which means you’ll owe me a reward.”

      Dorothea forced one foot in front of the other. Somehow, she managed to exit the room as quietly as she’d entered. Jessie Kay leaned against the bank of lockers across from her. The blonde opened her mouth to speak, but Dorothea ran. Just ran. There was no sign of Harlow—not that it mattered anymore.

      Harlow had hurt her pride. Daniel had hurt her soul.

      CHAPTER ONE

      Present day

      DOROTHEA MATHIS STUDIED the last room on her cleanup schedule and groaned. The bed had been wrecked, the comforter and pillows tossed haphazardly on the floor. A pair of panties hung from a bedpost. The TV remote had been busted, the pieces scattered across the nightstand. Wet towels created a path to the bathroom door, and the trash can...

      Oh, gag me! The trash can contained used condoms.

      The place needed to be decontaminated by people wearing hazmat suits.

      Am I up to date on my vaccinations?

      With a sigh, Dorothea anchored earbuds in place, keyed up her iPod and donned a pair of latex gloves. One—germs. Gross! Two—she was protective of the green nail polish she’d applied only that morning.

      She selected color based on mood. Green = irritated.

      Somehow she’d known today would suck balls.

      Her mom must have checked in Mr. and Ms. Pigsty last night after Dorothea had gone to bed. Since she had a 4:00 a.m. wake-up call, she tended to hit the sack by 9:00 p.m. Granny hours, her sister, Holly, liked to tell her.

      Dorothea picked up the dirty towels, removed the panties from the post, emptied the trash, changed the sheets on the bed, straightened the pillows and covers, and tossed the remote remains, planning to bill the Pigstys for a new one.

      Time was limited this morning. She’d promised to СКАЧАТЬ