Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Tears gather as I picture myself, Akara, and Banks dealing with normal baby problems like stinky diapers and soothing the little champ through the night. And not just paparazzi problems, like how to use a stroller with hoards of cameramen invading our space. I’ve been focused on things that I lose rather than things I still have to look forward to.
“Yeah?” I wipe at a tear that escapes.
“You can do anything. Just take every day as it comes,” Lily reminds me. “One day at a time, one step at a time.”
Uncle Lo told me the same thing, when I confided in him about wanting to be sober. One day at a time. One step at a time. To Aunt Lily, I say strongly, “I think I can do that.”
“But you can also look far into the future too,” she adds fast. “Because good things are ahead.” She nods resolutely. “And it’s important not to lose sight of those good things.”
I think of Akara and Banks. “I won’t lose fucking sight of the good things to come, I promise.” I eat the last of my churro bite. “Sometimes, I am scared though. That I might screw it all up. The parenting thing.”
“That fear is pretty normal.” She breaks off another piece for me, thinking. “I was always afraid of our kids being damaged like us, but I never imagined any of you would be infamous like us.”
But here I am.
I replay her words in my head. “You don’t think I’m damaged?”
“Nonono,” she slurs fast. “Lo and I—we were damaged before the world knew who we were. Fame didn’t really damage us. I don’t think it’ll hurt you either. You’re resilient. One of the most resilient.” She nods again, like it’s just fact.
I love my aunt so fucking much. “Aunt Lily, if I have any baby questions…?”
“I’m your girl.” Lily points a thumb to her chest.
“Good, because I’m going to raise my kids just like you.” I say this proudly, fucking happily.
“Like me?” My aunt breaks down with emotional tears because she’s rarely first draft pick or considered a role model to the world—but she’s become mine. She drops her churro.
I nod, wiping my wet cheeks. “Just like you.”
We hug again, people watch us, and Aunt Rose shoos them away with an icy glare. I rub my runny nose when we pull apart.
I spot my mom, and she mimes a lasso. Catching me around the waist and tugging. I smile into a laugh and act like she’s pulling me willingly.
I bounce to my mom and throw my arms over her shoulders. She has lassoed me into a hug. Her eyes glassy, her smile bright which pulls at her old scar along her cheek. I trace my finger over her scar, like I used to do when I was little. “You’re the most beautiful mermaid in the whole wide sea.”
Her tears well. “That’s you, Sul.” She laughs into a bigger, more heartfelt smile. “I am so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
I’m fucking sobbing. I cover my face, and Winona is the only thing that causes me to snort. She literally pops up between me and Mom and says, “Why are we crying? Tissues. Tissues.” She unpockets tissues from fucking nowhere and dabs our cheeks.
I can’t stop laughing.
“Is this thing fucking on?” My dad taps a microphone, the speakers squeaking.
“Jesus,” Uncle Lo winces.
Uncle Connor wears a burgeoning grin. “It’s on. The entire yacht can hear you.” They reside near a cluster of white couches on the left side of the pool.
“Fuck,” he curses into the mic.
I laugh again, my smile hurting my face.
“My daughter, Sullivan Minnie Meadows,” my dad calls out, my laughter fading as he says my name. “Come take your mark.”
60
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
“Take my mark?” I catch my dad’s gaze.
He gestures to the top of the pool. Where Banks Moretti towers with a confident, relaxed gait in just jeans and a white tee. My beefcake.
Beside him, Akara Kitsuwon wears a red button-down and a rising playful, sexy smile. One that I know pretty fucking well. My dreamboat is challenging me to a competition.
Maybe they’re both challenging me.
Through the speakers, my dad says, “Your boyfriends want to race you.”
“In the pool?” I ask as I practically glide towards them. People part like the Red Sea, and I love how easily I can go towards them. How no one is pushing or shoving or tearing me in half, how their support feels open and loving, and I just freely walk into Banks and Akara’s arms. “You seriously want to race me in the pool?”
“Yep,” Akara says. “Let’s go, Lady Meadows. We don’t have all day.”
“Oh it’s on.” I swing my arms. “You’re both going to get fucking murdered.”
Banks dips his head to me. He has those soft, shadowy smiles that melt my heart. “I’ve already died a thousand deaths just loving you. What’s one more?”