Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Tyler, I guess I’ll, uh… see you later?”
My cousin watches us for a few heartbeats, then says with a jerked nod, “Yeah. Alright.”
But he’s studying Caleb suspiciously, trying to place him. I can almost hear the rusty wheels turning inside that messy, bedhead-covered skull of his. A frightening thought.
Caleb steers me, his hand resting on the small of my back, to the curb, and we step down, crossing to the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. When I risk a glance back over my shoulder, my cousin is still watching us, arms crossed, rooted to his spot on the sidewalk.
Caleb
Shit.
That was a close one.
Thank god that preppy little stoner couldn’t place my face.
I thought for sure that little fucker was going to rat me out—call me out about the day I demanded Abby’s information on his front porch. Threatened to bash his fraternity brother’s face in. Okay, fine—and threatened to bash his face in. Refused to tell him my name. Lied when I said I didn’t have her ring.
Her ring.
Shit, fuck, shit.
It’s stashed in my bedroom, on my dresser, where it’s been sitting, gathering dust since the day she showed up on the lawn next door, frantically searching the ground in between the houses—on her fucking hands and knees—because of its sentimental value, and coming up empty.
Because of me. Why didn’t I just give the damn thing back when I had the chance? There’s no way I can casually do it now.
I am so screwed.
God, why am such an asshole?
I reach between us and clasp Abby’s hand, giving it a squeeze, desperate to ease my guilty conscience, worried that when she finds out I lied through omission that she’s going to be pissed. Worry that she’s never going to trust me.
Give up on me before giving me a chance.
Shit. What am I saying?
I look down at our entwined hands, then back up at Abby’s profile. Her lips are curved into a pleased smile. She looks so… happy that when her shining eyes meet mine, I stop walking, halting in my tracks.
She’s jerked back and her backpack slides down her shoulder from the motion, falling to the ground with a thud.
“Caleb, what…?” She looks up, startled.
We’re in the middle of the sidewalk, in the middle of our neighborhood, and only a few houses down from her shithole rental, but I don’t care. I do the only think I really know how to do, the thing I do best—use my body to communicate. When I’m on the ice, playing hockey, I use my legs and hands to do my job, deflecting pucks and protecting the net. I can go an entire ninety-minute game without talking or uttering a single curse. The voices in my head are loud enough.
Now, I do the same.
Without using words, I loosen my own bag and lower it down off my shoulders, setting it on the ground and raising my hands to cup Abby’s face between my palms. Her expressive eyes are huge. Clear. Blue. Questioning.
Shit. What I’m doing? I can’t kiss her in the middle of the street.
Ugh! Fuck!
I release her and bend down, grab both our book bags, swing them easily onto my shoulders as if they weigh nothing, and keep walking. Abby doesn’t say anything as she falls into step beside me, giving me a confused sidelong glance but grabbing my hand again.
I give it a squeeze and hold on tight.
Cecelia: What do you mean he just stopped on the sidewalk and stared at you? That’s kind of weird…
Abby: Well, it was kind of weird, but he looked like he wanted to say something. Like it was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t get the words out.
Cecelia: Like he wanted to declare his undying love for you?
Abby: I wish! What was it like with you and Matthew?
Cecelia: Well. He said ‘I love you’ after only like, 2 months. But it’s like I always say, “When you know, you know.” You know? lol
Abby: Yeah, I do. I just… He’s so hard to read. I wish he talked more.
Cecelia: You do?!?
Abby: (sigh) No. I don’t wish he talked more. He’s perfect the way he is. I just wish I knew what he was thinking.
Cecelia: Um, you probably don’t. Knowing you, you’d be scandalized. He probably wants to rip your clothes off. Trust me, those hockey boys are walking, raging hormones.
Abby: Well, that’s not likely to happen. A guy like that isn’t going to wait around for me, and you know I don’t sleep around.
Cecelia: Oh, you’re talking about “No sex before monogamy…” Are you still watching that damn Millionaire Matchmaker?
Abby: Yeah, so?! Besides, I don’t know if you’ve seen Caleb lately, but he’s like… incredible. Girls are all over him. Why would he want to be with me when he could have any girl on campus?