Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Chaos Hoodlum: I’m spanking your ass for that comment.
Me: Such a big talker, but such a sore loser when he goes head to head with a little girl.
Chaos Hoodlum: Nothing little about that mouth of yours.
Me: So I’ve been told…
Chaos Hoodlum: By who???
Me: Coach Jenner.
The dots move and then stop. A few times, actually.
Chaos Hoodlum: You’re fucking with me.
I send him a bunch of thumbs-up emojis in a row.
Me: I tried out this afternoon and made the team. I’m officially a cheerleader now.
Chaos Hoodlum: Stupidest emoji ever fucking created, cheerleader.
Me: Hostile over a thumb.
Chaos Hoodlum: Keep digging that hole, English.
Me: Are my punishments adding up?
Chaos Hoodlum: You better damn believe it.
Me: Good. See you tomorrow.
I send him a bunch of kiss-face emojis and then end it with another thumbs-up emoji, knowing it’ll rile him up. He doesn’t respond, which makes me laugh.
Cal
“And that’s how I knew,” Dad states, throwing another case of beer into the grocery cart.
I lift a brow, studying my dad’s face. His eyes are brown, so I got Mom’s green ones instead, but everything else I got from Dad. His towering height and muscle tone. Piss-ass attitude when you fuck with him. Dark brown hair and perpetual cheek scruff. He may be just a little over forty, but he has a young, handsome face. I’ve seen women stumble all over themselves in his presence, much to his irritation.
He only has eyes for Mom.
“You knew you loved Mom because she kicked you in the nuts?” I clarify. “If we’re being honest, that sounds really fucked up.”
Dad chuckles, earning an interested look from a woman around his age shopping with a small child. “The other women were…” He bends to grab another case of beer. “I don’t know how to explain it. Trying too hard? Your mom made me try hard.”
He and Mom have each told their own variations of their love story over the years, but mostly I pretended to gag so they’d stop. Suddenly, I’m all too fucking interested.
“Sounds difficult,” I joke.
Dad flashes me a rueful grin that shaves years off his age. “Made shit interesting. Fell in love with that girl before we even graduated high school. Knocked her up too. Your grandpa was so pissed that I gave up my basketball scholarship to make an honest woman out of your mother. We didn’t speak for nearly a year because of it too. It wasn’t until he met you that he relaxed and even gifted us the campground property. It all worked out.”
“Hmph.”
“Who is she?” Dad asks, stopping to pin me with a hard, penetrating Hutton glare.
“Who is who?”
Dad lets out a derisive snort. “I’m not old yet, kid. Tell me who has my son all twisted into knots where he’s not only listening to his parents’ love story, but also taking mental notes.”
“I’m not taking mental notes,” I grumble.
“Maybe it’s not love, but it’s something. Spill. This is the first time you’ve ever asked to include your parents for a cookout with the Hoodlums and their families. Something’s up. I’m not an idiot.”
I guess it is weird for me to cancel Campfire Chaos and turn it into a riverside barbeque instead, even stranger asking my parents to come.
“I just figured being a teacher and all, I should behave,” I lie.
Dad’s always seen right through them, so I don’t even know why I tried. “We both know you’ll be a shit like me until the day you die. It’s in our blood. That’s not it. It’s not the boys either. It’s a girl. I see the same dumb puppy dog look in your eyes that was reflected back at me all those years ago when I fell for your mom.”
“I’m not falling for her,” I grumble. “She just gets under my skin.”
Dad’s grin is wide and knowing. “That’s how it starts. Then she’ll kick you in the nuts and steal your heart.”
“She already stole my best friend,” I state bitterly. “What’s my heart too?”
His eyebrows fly up in surprise. “The English girl? The one who was running around with Michael Cunningham’s kid?”
“Yep,” I bite out. “So can we stop comparing her to your perfect wife now because Charlotte is so far from perfect it’s not even funny.”
We’ve made it to the bread aisle to pick up hamburger buns. Dad stops to scrutinize me. After a moment of his assessing stare, he grips my shoulder and squeezes.
“It was an accident, Cal.”
I close my eyes, only seeing Terrence’s face with tubes coming out of his mouth. “But he’s still gone,” I mutter, hating the way my throat tightens.
“Is she sorry it happened?”
I reopen my eyes. “Yeah.”
“And you somehow like her through all this hating her for what happened?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Well, that’s a kick to the nuts if I ever saw one.” He winks. “Hold on tight because the ones who seem to fuck your life up royally are always the ones who ride out that horror show with you until the end.” He elbows me in the ribs, laughing like an idiot.