Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“No.” I shake my head.
Milo squints. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing to do with Fletcher. Take me some place he doesn’t own. Take me somewhere he’s never been.”
After a few seconds, Milo’s face relaxes into a soft smile. “I can do that.”
I lean my head back and close my eyes. “Thank you.”
Thirty minutes later, we pull into the drive-thru of a chicken joint.
I laugh. “What are we doing?”
“This is Fletcher’s biggest competitor. I thought we’d give them our business.”
Nodding, I bite my lower lip. Who cares that I don’t like chicken unless they’re laying eggs for me to eat.
We order someone else’s chicken, fries, and shakes before driving to a park filled with kids playing soccer and dogs chasing Frisbees. It’s nothing spectacular, yet incredibly special. I feel normal here.
Just two people in love, eating greasy food in the front seat of a pickup truck while hiding in the shade of Spanish moss-draped Cyprus trees.
“Did you play soccer?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“Did you own a dog?”
Again, he shakes his head.
“Are you ever going to tell me about your childhood?”
He takes a bite of his chicken sandwich and gazes at the kids playing while he chews his bite. “I hope not.”
“Why do you always say that?”
“If the day comes that I’m sharing something that awful with you, it means I’m in a worse place than I was when my world imploded. As long as I can keep looking forward, it means I’m still alive.”
I pause a fry at my mouth and tap it to my lips a few times. Milo twists his neck, shifting his gaze to me.
“When did you know Fletcher bought me?”
“Don’t look back, Indie. Didn’t you hear me? It’s a slow death. Look forward. Chase something better. Don’t ever fucking look back.”
“If I don’t know where I’ve been, how will I know where I’m going?”
He removes his hat and tosses it onto the dash before running a hand through his hair. “You’ll know where you are when you get there not because you know where you’ve been. You’ll know it because it’s where you’re supposed to be. It will be a feeling of belonging that can’t be explained. It’s just a feeling you’ll know. And all you have to do is keep following that feeling, and you’ll be fine.”
“How do you know?” I ask. “Have you felt it?”
Milo nods. “I feel it right now.” He smiles, but it quickly fades. “Sometimes, happiness is fleeting. But I can now say that when I die, I’ll have known that feeling. I’ll remember how it felt to be home, if only for a few breaths. I’ll remember it forever; I’ll remember you forever.”
I can’t toss my food into the bag and the bag into the back seat fast enough before crawling over the console and wedging myself between the steering wheel and Milo, careful not to bump his stitches.
He holds out his hands, one with a greasy paper bag and the other with the last few bites of his sandwich. I rip them from his grip and toss them in the back seat with mine.
He stiffens, and I know he’s protecting his wound.
Pulling up his shirt, I brush my fingers over the bandage. “If this is love …” I can’t even finish. Why does our love have to be forbidden? Why does it have to involve cutting flesh and lying to everyone?
“I’m fine.”
I glance at him. Pressing my hands to his cheeks, I kiss him. It takes him a second to relax his arms and wrap them around me.
“Drive,” I murmur against his mouth. “Drive us so far away from here no one will ever find us. Be with me, Milo.” I kiss his jaw to his ear. “We don’t have to be fleeting. We can be forever. Get lost with me.” I sit up straight, returning my hands to his scruffy face. “I don’t need much. We can live out of a car for all I care. We’ll be broke and happier than we ever imagined. We’ll make love every day.”
Only now do I realize I’m crying happy, hopeful tears. “We’ll never fight. And when we save up enough money, we’ll buy one of those panini makers and burn the hell out of our grilled cheese sandwiches.”
He gives me a sad smile while wiping my cheeks, and if I didn’t know him better, I’d say he’s fighting back the tears. Not my Milo. He’s never cried. I’m sure of it.
I grin big enough for the both of us, but it doesn’t keep his from vanishing. A sadness corkscrews into my chest, slowly mangling every bit of hope I’ve brought to life over the past thirty seconds. Like Fletcher rapes the earth and steals its precious oil, Milo’s destroying my innocence and the dreams it’s held since the day I knew I loved him.