Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
My heart had stopped with the banging of the gavel. There I was, fifteen years old, without a mom or a dad to come home to. The fact that Uncle Logan made sure my bully was also held accountable for making and distributing the video did little to cushion the blow.
Everything changed after that, and not all for the worse. Getting out of Eureka turned out to be the best thing for me.
I moved to Palo Alto to live with my uncle and started fresh at a charter school where the teasing was more subtle, and the curriculum was rigorous and self-driven. I made new friends, kissed some cute boys, and discovered my passion for marine sciences. Uncle Logan even helped me petition to change my last name so nobody who Googled me could stumble upon what my dad had done.
But as I was thriving, my resentment lingered on. No matter how much I missed my dad, I couldn’t forgive him for missing out on so much of my life.
Three quick knocks pulled my attention out of the past and back to the snowy present. I turned around, grateful for the interruption to my gloomy thoughts. Uncle Logan stood in the doorway, his hair still damp from the shower.
“Did I wake you?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I was just relaxing.”
He stepped closer, bringing with him the fresh scent of cedar and mint. “I’m about to run into town to pick up a few groceries. Any requests for dinner tonight?”
I thought about it for a moment. “How about pasta?”
“Fettuccine Alfredo?” he said with a knowing smile. It was my favorite dish.
“Yes, please. With garlic bread.”
“I think we can make that happen,” he teased. “Anything else you’d like me to grab? Dessert?”
“Maybe some fruit to cut through all the bread and cream.”
“Anything for my girl.” He winked.
When I first moved in with him, I was still so self-conscious about my weight because of what had happened at my old school that I imposed a strict no-sugar, no-fat diet on myself. I requested nothing but salads and chicken breast for lunch and dinner. Uncle Logan put a stop to that quickly, making it clear that I didn’t need to change a single thing about myself. Plus, he loved to cook, and it seemed a shame to let his talents go to waste.
Learning how to appreciate my body didn’t happen overnight, but with time, I grew more comfortable in my skin. I wasn’t immune to second-guessing my choice to go back for a second helping of dinner, or blaming myself instead of the designer when a piece of clothing didn’t fit. Still, I was determined to keep working at accepting myself.
“I’m just going to finish something up in my office and then head out,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.”
I was sure that was true. Despite our private natural setting, we weren’t actually that remote. It was only a short drive down the private road to civilization.
He leaned down to kiss my forehead, and the brush of his lips against my skin made my stomach flutter. I held my breath until he left the room, and then sighed heavily. Why was my body reacting this way to simple gestures of affection? Logan was a father figure to me, a best friend, a source of support. My pulse shouldn’t race every time my uncle touched me. It was wrong.
Needing a change of scenery, I went upstairs to my bedroom, planning to text some friends from school. But as I grabbed my phone off the wireless charging dock on my nightstand, I noticed I had an email notification. The email was from my school’s registrar’s office. I frowned as I read the message. One of the classes I’d signed up for next semester had been cancelled due to insufficient enrollment. I would have to choose a different course if I wanted to maintain my status as a full-time student.
I grabbed my laptop from the desk and brought it over to the bed, figuring I might as well take care of the problem right away. I typed in the address for my school’s website and waited for it to load. After a few minutes of churning, the page displayed a connection error. The wi-fi was acting up, just like Uncle Logan said it probably would. I considered leaving the task for another day, but I was worried about the required classes for my major filling up. Cell service in the area was spotty at best without the internet, so I couldn’t use my phone as a hotspot. There was probably free wi-fi at the library in town.
Then I remembered that Uncle Logan’s office computer was hard-wired to the internet. Surely, he wouldn’t mind me using it for something school related.
I padded to his office on the other side of the house in my socks. He’d arranged his desk so that he could look out the window while he worked. I slid into his chair, relieved to find his computer on and still logged in. As I minimized the spreadsheet he’d left open, I saw that the desktop background was an old photo of me, Uncle Logan, and my dad.