Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
He shook her hand, and she pulled him closer over the counter, a sparkle of curiosity in her eye. “Why is Grayson at your home? Since when does it make you grin stupidly? Gimme all the details.”
Carl threw his head back and laughed. She was his kind of gossipy friend. He leaned in, and told her everything.
“You’re in Wellington,” Grayson rumbled down the line.
After a day trying, Carl finally got through. He reclined in a chair on the veranda and stared out at moon-dappled heads of lavender. “I left something here.”
“Something important?”
“Something I’d rather not live without.”
A hitched breath. “Ah, my good looks.”
Carl flicked at a head of lavender, grinning. “And most of your personality.”
Laughter tinkered down the phone line.
“You went to Earnest Point,” Carl murmured.
“Your text said you wanted to catch me and never let go.”
Carl flushed and sank deeper into his seat, staring up at the night sky that Grayson was possibly looking up at too. “I had a rather vexing dream.”
“Good. It made me buy a ticket right away. I wanted you to know, to see, to feel that . . . you’ve already caught me.”
Carl swallowed, whispered, “Both of us dashing off after one another . . . It says everything, doesn’t it?”
“We probably should have a conversation about it.”
“Yes. And—”
“And?”
“Let’s have it face to face.”
On the day of the talent show, Carl was a bundle of nerves. He was helping Sage in the kitchen, plating green-frosted cupcakes. He’d promised Sage that when she went into the main hall, he’d encourage Leo on stage for his piano performance, and he was hyper-aware that Grayson had landed and was Ubering home this very moment.
Finally. The days apart had felt endless. Carl had bubbled with anticipation, and went on a hell of a lot of bike rides with Toto. This morning he’d gone to Houghton Bay and day-dreamed about Grayson emerging from the surf in sparkles . . . Then he’d closed his eyes and imagined Grayson in his house in Earnest Point, while he waited for his connection. Hopefully Grayson had made himself at home. Cooked meals in his kitchen, slept in his bed, snooped in all his drawers . . .
“Carl? Hello? Anyone home?”
Carl sighed. “Soon, very soon.”
Sage snorted. People were finding their seats; the show was set to start in five minutes. “Leo’s due on stage in fifteen.” After the witches’ sons showed off their talents. Carl gave her two thumbs up, and as soon as she left, panicked. He checked the foyer, and the outside quad, and the gardens near the gate. “Leo, where are you?”
A snicker had him whisking around to smirky faces. The two witches’ sons were hopping off a shiny electric bike. “Probably wet his pants and went off to cry in a dirty corner,” one said.
White-haired Linda, in a golden shawl, shuffled through the gate past them, flanked by a few friends. She eyed the boys and caught Carl’s gaze with an acknowledging nod. “Today you’ll get what you deserve.”
The other bully scoffed, and Carl murmured for Linda to enjoy the talent show. She entered the hall, and one of the witches came outside with a grim smile. “Talents. Line up behind the stage curtain.”
Ah!
Leo, where are you? God, what wouldn’t he give for Grayson to show up now. He’d know exactly where to look! Wouldn’t be floundering around like Carl.
“Carl?”
“Not now, I’m busy.” He peered around a large tree.
“Busy doing what?”
“Looking for—” Carl startled and whipped around to Leo watching him curiously, his head cocked. “There you are!” He tripped over a tree root, caught himself, and hauled Leo into a hug. “You had me worried. Thought you were getting stage fright.”
“I was getting stage fright.”
“Then I’m back to worrying.”
“I threw up in the bathroom. There might be more to come.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have—”
“Helped me throw up?”
A wince. “Prepared a hot towel?” Carl patted both Leo’s shoulders. “I’m sorry you’re feeling nervous. If you really don’t want to—”
“I do. I will.” The insistence. The determination.
Carl admired Leo and rubbed his hair. “Channeling some Jason Lyall courage there?”
“No. Some Carl courage.”
Warmth unfurled in his stomach. “I’m hardly courageous.”
“You’ve stood up for me and Mum since the beginning. If I can be a little like you, I’d be very happy. You’re my hero.”
Carl’s throat got tight and his chest fluttered. He went in for another hug—
“No more!” Leo squeaked. “I really might throw up.”
They laughed, and Carl led him inside—
Into another drama that was playing out in the foyer—right next to the counter separating the kitchen, where a few plates of the freshly iced cupcakes waited.
Carl halted Leo inside the doorway and took in the scene. Three witches, all talking at once to a policeman while the two bullies shrank into the corner. The mums of the boys were furious—at their sons, and the man in uniform—and were begging to be allowed to stay until the event was over before they headed to the station.