Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Thank you. I just… I always want him to be okay. I can’t handle the thought of him not being okay.”
“Joey’s strong. He can take care of himself.” Mouse looked over her shoulder at me and gave me a sad smile.
“I know. I don’t doubt his strength.” I doubted mine—if I could deal with something happening to him. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
They didn’t push me on it. When we got back to town, I had them drop me off at the end of the driveway. I didn’t want Jojo’s father to be a dick to them for coming back.
“Text me if you need me to come pick you up,” Romeo said.
“I will.”
I waited until they drove away, then started walking down the driveway. I left most of my gear in the Jeep but had my backpack with clothes in it.
When I reached the end of the gravel, their two-story cabin in front of me, I stopped. The police cruiser and his truck were parked there, so I knew Officer Robinson was home.
My eyes flickered to where years ago we’d wrestled in a pile of leaves. I’d been so happy. Simply being with him always made me feel happy and as if I was special, because Joey was Joey and he chose me. It felt like all this—us—were part of some plan that went back hundreds, thousands of years, and even back then, there was always going to be a Joey and Gage, because how could there not be? How could a world exist where we weren’t together?
I shook those thoughts from my head and went for the porch. Hefting the backpack higher on my shoulder, I knocked. His father answered, because of fucking course he would.
My hate for him grew, spiraled as I silently fought to get ahold of it. He smiled, like he knew, like he was aware of how much power he had over us and how much he hurt us by something as simple as not letting Joey go to the game. “Afternoon, Chief Robinson. Is Joey home?”
“Yep,” he replied but didn’t move.
He wanted me to ask. The smug bastard wanted me to ask. “Would it be all right if I saw him? Or hung out for a little while? I don’t much want to go home.” I added the last part because it gave him a reason to feel superior to me, to my dad. Like this place was some kind of solace. Plus, I knew he would never miss a chance to remind me how big of a loser my dad was.
“I don’t suppose you do.” He stepped out of the way for me to go inside. “Joe! Your friend is here to see you!”
Joey came out of his room, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It had some dirt on it like he’d actually done yardwork today and it hadn’t been an excuse.
“Oh, hi, Gage. Wanna come back to my room?”
It was stupid, maybe even dramatic, but it was like all the tension suddenly drained out of me and I just was. Seeing him did that to me. “Sure.”
I made it only a few steps before his father said, “Why don’t you boys stay out here? In the living room with me or at the table in the kitchen.”
Motherfucker.
“Yes, sir,” we both said.
“I’ll grab my backpack. We can study for the test next week,” Joey said.
“Do you mind if I use your bathroom to change?” I asked.
His father paused for a moment before nodding. The thing was, he’d never really liked me. He’d never approved of Joey’s friends except Romeo, but he was taking it to a new level lately. This fury seemed to simmer just below the surface, as if he was a predator waiting to pounce.
As if he knew.
Could he?
The bathroom was down the hallway where Joey’s room was. I smiled at him as I went, trying to silently ask, Are you okay?
Small smile. Small nod.
I breathed. At least he hadn’t hurt him.
After a quick leak, I washed my hands and changed my clothes. When I left the bathroom, Joey wasn’t in his room, so I made my way down the hallway. The living room was to the right, and his father sat on the couch, watching TV. To the left, Joey sat at the dining-room table. We were in separate rooms, but his father could see us from where he was, and there was no doubt he could hear us.
Joey had spread all our school stuff out on the table, which I had no interest in. I took the chair beside him, our backs to the living room, but he scooted his chair over slightly so we weren’t so close.
God, I just wanted to go. To take him and leave this fucking town. Who cared about high school or graduation? But I knew Joey did. He was going to college to make something of himself.