Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
I turn and run the path we used to get here, and I don’t look back.
Finn Hayes and I are officially done.
Thursday, December 12th
Finn
English class is pretty full when I arrive for our midterm exam, and an excitement about winter break is in the air. I make a point not to sit beside Ace, who’s been pestering me for the last two days about going to play poker at his parents’ house tomorrow night, and find a seat on the left side of the room instead. I don’t need him yapping at me while I’m trying to look through my notes one last time.
I open my backpack and pull out my notebook, but I don’t even make it through one paragraph of notes before my phone goes off in my pocket.
Ace: Cute of you to think you can avoid me in such a technological age, Finnley. Listen, do you want to be in charge of snacks or drinks for poker night tomorrow?
The urge to ignore him is overwhelming, but I can see by the way he’s staring me down from across the room that if I fuck around, I’m going to find out. I sigh and type out a message.
Me: Can we discuss crudites AFTER the exam? Maybe? Just maybe?
Ace: So, you’re coming?? Do I have this as your promise?
Me: Yes, dude. Whatever. I’ll come to poker and bring juice boxes or whatever the fuck you want if you just let me concentrate on studying right now.
I wait five full seconds in anticipation, satisfaction taking over when my phone doesn’t buzz again. When I glance up at Ace one last time, he’s waving a blank piece of paper in the air like a white flag.
I laugh. The motherfucker is so ridiculous. Ever since he won the Double C Texas Hold’em event three weeks ago, all he’s wanted to do is play poker.
It’s annoying as fuck, but truthfully, I’m not against going to his parents’ place to hang out for the evening. His parents are a hell of a lot better than mine, and it’ll give me something to do with my time on winter break rather than going home.
I look back to my notebook to read through some more notes, but Professor Winslow claps at the front of the room to get our attention, starting class ten insignificant seconds later.
I guess I know what I know at this point, and the exam will be whatever it is. I sigh again and shut my notebook as Professor Winslow starts to talk.
“Today is the day,” he announces with a big-ass smile on his face. “Your English Lit midterm. I sure hope you studied because I didn’t hold back when I had Doug help me create the questions. You think they’ll pass?” He looks over at TA Doug, and Doug grins.
“I don’t know, Professor. It’s a mighty hard exam.”
My brother—who still doesn’t know he’s my brother—laughs and rests his hip on the corner of his desk. He eyes the room for a long moment and then crosses his arms over his chest. There’s still a huge part of me that resents him, but I’d be lying if I said it’s as big as when I started this year. Meeting his sister—hell, my sister—Winnie broke down a truth barrier inside me I didn’t even know existed.
They got the easy end of the deal, sure, but they didn’t get it as the result of a conscious choice. They were abandoned.
“You know, my wife and my daughter are huge fans of Christmas. I’m talking, they’ve got my ass on a ladder stringing up lights and baking enough cookies to get diabetes kind of fans. And I don’t know, I’m starting to wonder if all of their Christmas spirit has seeped into my pores or something…”
He pauses, and a grin stretches across his lips. “I’m feeling really generous today, and I’m thinking that, maybe, you guys don’t need to take a midterm…”
“Yes!” one dude yells from the back. “For the love of everything, please!”
Professor Winslow laughs. “Oh, so you guys are a fan of that plan?”
More voices in the lecture hall shout out their agreement.
“Okay,” he says and stands. He walks over to Doug’s small desk in the corner and grabs the stack of midterms off his desk. And then he strides over to his trash can and drops them in with a loud thud. “Happy holidays.”
The entire room erupts into cheers and applause and Professor Winslow lets it go on for a good minute, basking in everyone’s happiness, before he holds up his hand to quiet the room.
“Now, even though you don’t have a midterm, you do have a semester project to turn in to me today,” he updates. “This final part of your project’s point value will be double to replace your midterm grade, so I’m hoping you all put the team in teamwork and created a final thesis on The Winter’s Tale that will blow my figurative load.”