Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
"We can find another place."
"They have coffee ice cream?"
She nods.
"Then I'm good." I force a smile.
She returns a big, authentic I'm beautiful and madly in love smile and offers her arm.
I take it and follow her into the small ice cream shop. It's a cute place, with pale yellow walls and an even mix of dairy and non-dairy flavors.
Indie orders the non-dairy mint chip. Says something about how it's the better version.
I nod. Try to think nothing of it. Order the coffee ice cream.
It's not like I'm some dairy die hard. I mean, how weird is it that we drink milk? It's for baby cows. No other species drinks another animal's milk. And people freak the fuck out about human children drinking breast milk into their toddler years.
It's just…
That's what Eve orders.
But maybe it is the best flavor. No big deal. Whatever.
We take our cups to the street. Walk along the increasingly quiet street.
It's a beautiful night. Clear and warm, with a soft breeze.
"Are your shoes comfortable?" I ask.
"No." She laughs. "Are yours?"
I motion so-so. "My running shoes will feel like heaven tomorrow."
She smiles what a Sienna thing to say. "Good coffee?"
Oh. Right. I haven't tried it.
I take a small bite. Let the rich mix of sugar, cream, and java dissolve on my tongue. Mmm, sweet and robust. "Very good. Yours?"
She nods and takes a bite. "Perfect."
We walk in silence for a few blocks. Soaking up the feel of the city at night. I've never been one of those New York is the only place worth visiting New Yorkers, but I still love the view.
Skyscrapers to the north and south. Steel and glass. The soft blue sky dulled by light pollution, but more beautiful for it.
Slowly, we meander to Washington Square Park. It's late, but on a night like this nice, the park is buzzing with a mix of locals and tourists.
We sit at the fountain, facing the mini Arc de Triumph.
(Which is such an NYU freshman from out-of-state thing to do. But no one will recognize me in this outfit, so I allow it).
"You know they closed the park for years to move the fountain," she says.
"So it would be in line with the arch."
"Do you remember how it looked before?" She motions to the east. "It was a few too many feet that way. Or maybe that way." She motions to the west. "We came a few times, when you were a kid."
That's vaguely familiar. "It looks the same."
"It does. It's a subtle change. Easy to miss."
Okay…
"It's the same with growing up." She looks at me. "With you growing up. Changing. You… you're the same as you always were, but you're different too."
"How is that?"
"You're more sure of yourself. You see what you want and you take it."
"I sound like a bitch."
"No. You sound like a man." She smiles. "If you were a man, people would praise you for it."
"But now?"
"I've always admired that about you, Sienna. But it scares me too. Because I can tell you want Cam. And I know you'll do whatever it takes to get what you want."
What happened to her whole you're an adult who can understand consequences thing?
I guess, as my older sister, she's supposed to lecture me about stupid decisions.
But I'm not that foolish. "We're just flirting."
"Maybe. But if you're not. If it's more… you can tell me."
"And you'll tell Ty? And he'll kill Cam?"
"No. I'll keep it our secret. I promise."
"But you'll kill Cam?"
"Only if he hurts you."
I'd do the same. I'd ruin Ty if he hurt her again. And he knows that. So I can't really protest. Or complain.
But, somehow, I feel I'm missing something. Some knowledge she has about me or Cam or Ty or the relationship between them.
I don't ask. I know better.
Not during our walk to the subway, our ride back to the Broadway stop, our walk to the apartment building.
Not even when she hugs me goodbye in the elevator. Or when I change into my pajamas, get ready for bed, climb into my sheets.
I have class in the morning. Class all day. Then practice. I don't have time to worry about… anything.
After half an hour of tossing and turning, I get out bed. I find my cell. Text Cam.
Sienna: You're right. I'm jealous.
I expect him to tell me to go back to bed, but he doesn't.
Cam: You admit you're jealous of your sister's friend?
Sienna: No. I'm jealous of the woman you're fucking right now. Of course, of my sister's friend.
Cam: Do you think I'd answer your text if I was fucking someone?
Sienna: You could spare her the horror of no one ever living up to you.
Cam: Considerate of me.
My lips curl into a smile. Everything else fades away.
For one beautiful moment, the only thing in my mind is Cam's mischievous grin. His hearty laugh. The beautiful, perfect image of him in his running shorts.