Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“So the only way you’d be friends with me is if Moffy made you sign a contract?”
“No,” I say quickly. Fuck. “I’m just saying Maximoff is so practical and meticulous with everything. It was a joke.” I run a hand through my hair. “Did he mention anything to you about us?” I motion from her to me.
“No, but I’ve noticed the same thing as you.” She sidesteps to the fridge. “He’s nervous we’re not going to get along.”
“And we both agree that we want to make him less nervous?” I ask.
“Of course,” she says and snatches a hunk of cheddar cheese from the shelf. She kicks the fridge closed with her slipper. “There’s nothing I want more than for him to be happy.”
“Me too,” I say holding up a hand. “See, we’re already making progress here. Okay, what else do we have in common?”
Silence suddenly thickens in the room. She slices a piece of cheese slowly.
“Are you thinking?” I ask her.
“Yes, it’s difficult.”
“It can’t be that difficult.”
“Then do you have anything?” she shoots back.
“You love animals,” I tell her. “And I don’t hate them.”
She slices a piece of cheese and lands her eyes on me. “I’ve heard you call Walrus a little bastard about thirty times.”
“With affection,” I say.
She pops the slice of cheese in her mouth. “So we have two things in common. With my calculations, we should have enough commonalities to be friends in about five-hundred and sixty-four years.” She reaches for her beer, and I don’t know what to say without putting my foot in my mouth.
I don’t want to give up on this, but I feel the air tensing around us. Awkward silence piling on. I tap my thumb ring on the kitchen counter to fill the quiet. She watches me for a second before popping the cap of her beer on the side of the counter.
“You’re supposed to disagree with that,” she says casually, placing the beer to her lips.
I stop tapping my ring. “With the five-hundred and sixty-four thing?”
“Yeah,” she nods and motions the bottle to me. “You’re supposed to say no, Jane, we’ll be friends in a couple years.”
“I don’t have a fucking crystal ball,” I say.
“Okay, then just tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” I say. “Because skeletons aren’t making friends in their graves.”
“Wow.” She shakes her head.
“Wow. What?” I can’t say the right things, and correcting course is just driving myself further into a ditch.
“Wow, you want to be my friend but you can’t even have any confidence that it will happen,” she says. “Not in five-hundred years. Not in two years. How about ever?”
“I have confidence in myself, but friendship is a two-way street,” I reply.
Her brows furrow. “So you think I’m the one not trying?”
Fucking hell.
“You’re right,” I say. “This is difficult.”
“Agreed.”
Something nags at me, and it’s not going to bring us any closer since it’s about Maximoff. I scratch my jaw. “So Maximoff doesn’t have a license anymore,” I say. “I thought the only reason you didn’t ride together was because of his driving.”
“It was,” she replies. I pick up on the past tense.
“But it’s not anymore?”
“You two don’t get much time alone…” She shrugs.
I want to tell her not to worry about that. To do what she’d normally do, if I wasn’t around. But fuck. I love my one-on-one time with Maximoff, and those car rides are a big part of it. No piece of me wants to give that up just to be nice.
My earpiece buzzes. “Akara to Farrow,” Akara says through my mic. “We’re driving into the garage now. Are the doors unlocked?”
I step back from Jane, realizing that this conversation went from pleasant to painful in a matter of minutes. And honestly, it’s not her. I don’t even know if it’s me. It’s just this intangible, unquantifiable thing.
23
MAXIMOFF HALE
“I don’t think I brought enough chips,” Sulli says in my kitchen beside me. The two of us fix a plate of food for everyone. She inspects the Tostitos. “What was I thinking? One fucking bag. Akara can eat a whole bag by himself. And why did I bring donuts? No one likes midnight donuts but me.”
“Hey.” I place two hands on her broad swimmer’s shoulders. She’s long-legged and long-armed, and barefoot, she’s six-feet tall. Only a couple inches shorter than me, and we’re almost eye-level.
We look like brother and sister. Not just cousins.
Our moms are sisters. We share their green eyes.
Our dads are half-brothers. We share our grandfather’s dark brown hair (if I didn’t dye mine).
So you know Sullivan Minnie Meadows as the foul-mouthed, ultra-focused Olympian who returned home with four gold medals last summer in 200 & 400-meter freestyle and individual medley. You’re angry that she just retired from swimming, but some of you are too excited about the idea of Sullivan starting to date to seriously care.