Read Girl Lost for Free Online

he’s already standing and hooking his bookbag onto his shoulder. He looks at me expectantly, and I huff a sigh. “Fine. But I’m not staying.”
    “You can leave anytime you want, Gwen,” he says.
    I flinch at the nickname, but don’t comment or correct him. Instead, I follow him through the dark lecture hall and outside.
    I expect him to lead me to Bitter Brick, the largest café on campus. But he doesn’t. Instead, he leads the way to the student center, down into the basement. There is a small food court there, in the center of the bookstore, game room, and media rooms. There are a few study corrals, and off to one side, an art room with jarringly bright lights.
    I know it’s a popular place for the rest of the student body, but I couldn’t care less about the student life center. I study in my room, and eat in the caf, and try to avoid people aside from my brother and Orchid. Even James is someone I would have happily ignored, if he hadn’t latched on to Orchid like a drowning squid.
    One of the food stalls is a soft serve ice cream shop.
    Which is fucking ridiculous. Who the hell puts an ice cream shop on a college campus?
    And who the hell takes a girl to get soft serve when he’s trying to talk her into not cutting him out of her life? Peter’s face is relaxed—like I’m not about to sit down and explain all the reasons he needs to leave me alone.
    He steps up to the counter and says—before I can argue or give my input—, “I need your triple scoop split, with double the cherries and hold the pineapple—let’s do raspberry instead.”
    The girl rings up his order, and he pays her then catches my hand and pulls me to an empty table.
    “Why are we getting ice cream?” I ask, staring at him.
    He shrugs, a smile teasing the edges of his lips. “Why not?”
    I bite down on my lip—that’s not an answer. But it doesn’t matter. I need to explain to him I’m not staying.
    “Look,” I say, taking a deep breath.
    “Can I go first?” he asks. I hesitate. “You want to tell me all the reasons why we’re an awful idea, and I get that. I understand and respect that you have reservations. But I want you to hear why I think you should be open to being with me.”
    “I don’t know you, Peter,” I say softly.
    Something in his gaze shifts, and he smiles, a dark expression that makes me shiver. “Don’t you, Gwen?”
    I sit back and nod. “Fine. Tell me why I shouldn’t run.”
    “I’ve watched you. Not in a creeper sense”—he grins when my eyes widen—“but in a ‘there’s Gwen, and I can’t think of anything else’ sense. I’ll see you, sometimes. In the morning, especially. You row, with some guy.”
    “Micah,” I murmur. His eyes widen briefly and then he nods.
    “I see you, and I can’t think of anything else. I’ve tried. But you fascinate me. You smile—you see these people around you, and I can see you interact with them, even as you keep yourself separated from them. You are a gorgeous girl, Gwendolyn, and I won’t even bother to deny that some of it stems from that. But you’re different. You try not to show it, but you can’t help it sometimes.”
    “I’m awkward, and you’re attracted to that?” I say flatly.
    He grins and nods. “I am.”
    God. He’s insane.
    “I don’t want to marry you, Gwen. I just want to be friends and see where things go.”
    “You really don’t need to be nice to me just because you feel bad for the awkward girl.”
    The girl at the counter rings a bell and calls Peter’s name. He looks away, his mouth compressing into a thin, annoyed line. I watch him stand and retrieve our ice cream, thanking the girl quietly before he carries the massive sugary concoction to our table.
    He drops into the bench across from me and scoots a spoon toward me. Warily, I take it as he takes a bite of ice cream.
    Here's the thing about Peter: he has absolutely no regard for societal norms. The constant surveillance during Lit should have clued me in,