Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“And you were amazing.” He shakes his head in wonder. “I mean, what was that even about? They were gonna kick your ass, and you stood up to them like some kind of … of superhero badass! Who is this Danny guy, anyway? Is Danny that guy’s boyfriend? Oh! Did you try to steal Danny from him or something??”
This new friend of mine is rather easily excitable. Like a little puppy. “Kinda.”
“Hmm. You shouldn’t have done that. I mean, I’ve had crushes on girls who had boyfriends, but I’d never act on it. It isn’t right.” He frowns at himself. “Not that they’d be into me, anyway.”
And my new puppy friend is straight. Interesting.
I face him. “Listen, Jonathan. You saw how that Joey guy was, right? A total asshole? And his buddy is the dickhead who took over your machine.”
Jonty shrugs. “So?”
“Those guys—assholes, dickheads, jerks—they think they run the world. All of them. And you know what?” I get in Jonty’s face. “They do.”
“They do?”
“Fuck yeah, they do. Is there a jerk in your life? Like … a really, really big jerk? Someone who gives you hell? Someone who makes you angry? Someone who makes your life goddamned miserable?”
The words seem to shake him. His gaze drops to the floor, his eyes like two tiny stones. “My big brother. He definitely hit every branch on his way down the asshole tree, for sure. He does whatever he wants. He gets away with it all. My parents don’t say it, but he’s their favorite.” Jonty sighs. “I hate it.”
I throw an arm around his back, then make him face the rest of the gym. “Every jerk in the world is your asshole big bro. They’re your crush’s boyfriend. They’re your boss who makes ten times more than you ever will. They’re all of these guys at the gym who look down on you as if their protein-fattened bodies give them some magic authority over your own happiness.”
“You’re right.”
I turn him to face me, then grab my new friend by his bony shoulders. “You don’t get the girl of your dreams by being nice. You get the girl by being them. Otherwise, they will always take the girl you want … and the guy I want.”
“Is your guy Danny …?”
My heart squeezes with anguish at the sound of his name, like the name is a literal fist slamming into my chest, a set of vengeful knuckles straight to the heart.
I take a breath, then nod.
“I see,” he murmurs thoughtfully.
“I don’t know about you, Jonathan, but I don’t intend to die being a Mr. Nice Guy. What has smiling all the time gotten us? What has nice ever gotten us? It’s time for us to take control. It’s time for us to learn from our enemies. From these jerks.” My eyes harden. “No more nice, Jonathan.”
“I go by Jonty.”
“Not anymore. Jonty’s the twig who lets guys take over his machine. Jonty’s the little brother who’ll always get overlooked by Mommy and Daddy. Jonty’s the nice guy.” My eyes darken. “You’re Jonathan from now on. Own it.”
“Hmm. Well, then you’ve gotta be Romeo,” he decides, lifting his chin to me. Then his eyes flash worriedly and he recoils. “Uh, sorry. I mean, only if you want to be Romeo.”
“Sorry?” I snort. “Did you just say ‘sorry’ to me …? Jonathan doesn’t apologize.”
“He doesn’t?”
“Nope. Jonty used to. But Jonathan apologizes to no one and for nothing.”
A flame lights up in his eyes. He nods. “Romeo doesn’t apologize either, does he?”
I mull it over. Suddenly, it sounds right. I give him a smirk of approval. “Romeo doesn’t.”
“Hmm. Jonathan …” He nods. “Yeah. I like it. Jonathan.” His eyes meet mine, self-assured and ready. “No more nice.”
A thought suddenly occurs to me. When I glance over my shoulder, I notice my coworkers have finished their session. They’re gathered by the treadmills chatting amongst each other and laughing.
But Prisha stands apart from them, unengaged, watching me from across the gym. Maybe she’s been watching this whole scene unfold. On her face, there’s an expression of profound mystification, as if she can’t for the life of her make sense of anything she’s seeing. Like she’s a stranger, peering through someone else’s window, confounded and lost.
Like she doesn’t know who I am anymore. Doesn’t recognize me. Doesn’t know her best friend.
It’s a look I’m certain I’ll remember for ages.
And it’s while I stare at her that I realize the ringing in my ears is gone. A sense of calmness and certainty I have never known before has taken me over like a magic spell. I feel capable of anything suddenly. I feel freed. I feel energized. I know exactly what I have to do.
“No more nice,” I recite back, still gazing across the gym at a life I’m now certain I have to leave behind.