Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
We were using each other in a way. Not a bad way. But that didn't mean it sat that comfortably with me. I didn't usually need to use someone, lean on someone, need another person to fill in the gaps in my life.
Why, then, wasn't I fighting it as I moved my thumb to hit reply?
Maybe it was because the emptiness in her called to me, because I didn't like the idea of her feeling the same way I had felt so often in my life. Or maybe it was simply because I liked her. There was a sweetness there I didn't - in my life - often get to see. I liked the somewhat awkward way she talked - and texted - full of half-finished thoughts and rambling sentences.
She was a breath of fresh air in my somewhat stale life.
- I don't remember having any actual desire to become a biker. It wasn't like I was raised around them or anything. But it fit. When the girls wanted to move here, it made sense for me to join up with The Henchmen.
Annie - Is it really like a brotherhood? Does everyone get along, hang out together? Or is that mostly fiction too?
- For the most part, yeah. The Henchmen have almost like... three tiers of brothers. The older OGs. The guys who came in after there was an underground war of sorts. And then us newer guys. Everyone crosses over, of course, but the strongest bonds seem to be in each group.
Annie - How many newer guys are there? I mean, if you're allowed to answer that.
- There's me then three other guys. Two of which I am at a bar with right now. West and Vance.
Annie - Oh, sorry! I didn't know you were busy. Text me later after you're done hanging out with your friends.
- No worries. They're chatting up a table of college kids. You're not interrupting anything.
Annie - No interest in college girls?
I couldn't help but wonder if it was a bit of a leading question. If she wanted to know my type. I couldn't claim to have one really. But I knew what it wasn't. It wasn't college girls. I was too old for that. I wasn't as young as West, as Vance. The age difference - and therefore lack of life experience didn't appeal to me. I liked people with stories, with something to say. And the girls sitting with West and Vance likely weren't there just yet. That was fine. It was how life worked for most people. It took time to build a history.
Sure, there was maybe an appeal to that young, carefree, easy-going nature they had, the way they easily laughed, openly smiled. But they just weren't for me.
- Not my thing. I'll probably be heading out soon. They're likely going to bring the girls back to the clubhouse.
Annie - All of them? You said a table of college girls.
- Yeah, probably all of them. It's not uncommon for them all to hang out, to party. That's always sort of been the purpose of the clubhouse.
There was a long pause before she responded, and I could practically hear her wondering what would happen after the drinks started pouring liberally. If they would all just have a giant orgy, if the girls would split themselves up between the two guys and all go off to separate rooms. And, well, that was a fair thing to be wondering. It could be either or neither.
Annie - I have never before felt quite so boring lol
- At this point in my life, I think a night at home sounds a lot better than partying it up until sunrise.
Annie - Was that just to make me feel less lame? Wait, no. Don't tell me. Let me pretend I am not the only person who spends most of their weekend nights at home.
West came back over, dragging me with him toward the table for a while. The next time I could pull out my phone without being rude, it was too late to message her back.
There was no mistaking a distinct sinking sensation inside that this might be the only conversation we would have.
FOUR
Annie
It was natural.
It should be unnatural, getting to know someone without seeing them face-to-face. That was the foundation of human interaction, after all.
But, well, I grew up back in the time when chatrooms were still all the rage. I had a friend from one who lived in Australia that I talked to every single day, shared all my intimate life details with, swore I would always be in touch with, was sure I would meet one day.
Of course, life changed, we went separate ways. But that didn't erase the fact that for a long while there, she had been someone I considered a good friend. Despite the fact that I had never actually met her, had never heard her voice.