Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“Hey,” Lauren said softly, sitting down on the log across from mine. “I’m really sorry about your grandpa.”
I met her gaze, remembering how much my grandpa had loved her. He’d taken the two of us out for dinner many times, and we’d always spent at least a couple hours eating, laughing, and talking.
“That one’s a keeper,” he’d told me several times after seeing her.
“Thanks,” I said, the ache in my chest forcing me to look away from her.
“He would’ve loved what you said at his funeral service.”
My gaze flicked back to hers. “How do you know what I said?”
Her eyes widened for a second. “I was there.”
“You were at my grandpa’s funeral? I shook hands with everyone who came through the line, and I never saw you.”
She looked down. “I stood behind some people in the back. No one from your family saw me.”
Discomfort churned in my chest. After all this time, she’d been in the same place I was, but she’d deliberately avoided me. How had two teenagers who couldn’t get enough of each other end up so far apart?
“Anyway.” She stood, still not looking at me. “That Thomas John Carlisle quote in your eulogy…it was really nice, Archer. He would’ve been proud.”
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. The quote was, “Show me the man you honor and I will know what kind of man you are.” I had tearfully told everyone, at least four hundred people, in attendance that the man I would honor more than any other until my dying day was my grandpa.
“So, you’re an English teacher?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
Her mention of Carlisle reminded me of how much she loved literary quotes.
She’d once asked me to stop at a gas station when we were driving so she could run in and get something to write down a quote she’d heard on the radio. When she ran back out to the car, she had a napkin in her hand that she’d written the quote on while inside the gas station. I remembered that moment very well. Her radiant smile. The way she’d kissed me. How right it felt that we were together.
“Yeah, I teach high school English in Sioux City,” she said.
“High school?” I grinned and shook my head. “I know you love the English part, but how are the kids?”
“Amazing. Well, mostly.”
“I bet you’re a great teacher.”
She ignored my compliment, looking uncomfortable. I hated the distance and unease between us. I wanted to walk over to her and say something—anything—to break down the wall of awkwardness between us. But Linda was filming everything we said.
Our only break from the cameras was from one to five in the morning. Linda and Nutter each filmed us for ten hours a day, switching off at the halfway mark. If I wanted to have a private conversation with Lauren, I’d have to wake her in the middle of the night.
“Are you up for more treasure hunting?” I asked.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“I was thinking maybe we should add some rice in with our fish this morning. We’ll need the carbs.”
“Are you going fishing?”
“Yep.”
I gathered my fishing gear and walked to my favorite shoreline fishing spot. When I got there, I set everything down and went to check my gill nets. I grinned as I pulled the first net in and found a large mackerel. The high-fat fish was exactly what we needed to sustain ourselves.
“Thanks, Dad,” I murmured.
“Why are you thanking your dad?” Nutter asked from behind me.
I turned, surprised to see him standing there. After the first couple days, it often became easy to forget we were being filmed.
“Hey, it would be great if you could answer that question as you take the fish out of the net,” Nutter said. “It’s okay to look at the camera while you’re talking.”
I nodded and retrieved the fish, grinning again.
“That’s a nice fish,” I said, looking at the camera. “My dad taught me how to make and set gill nets. We used to spend a few weeks in Wisconsin or Minnesota every summer. Everything I know about hunting and fishing, I learned from my dad and grandpa.”
“Have you been thinking of them since you got here?” Nutter asked.
“Yeah, all the time. It’s funny how much thinking I do here. In everyday life, things are so loud and busy, but here…there’s time to just…be, I guess.”
“How is it being here with Lauren?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “Man, that’s…it would take a long time to answer that.”
“Just give me the one-minute version,” Nutter prompted.
I still hadn’t wrapped my mind around how I was feeling about being here with Lauren. I was still low-key pissed at the show’s producers for dropping that bombshell just to create drama. The last thing I was going to do was bare my soul for their cameras.