Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 30148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
I used the flashlight and quickly zipped up the tent right when the rain started to pour onto us so loudly that it made Hazel jump closer to me and grab on. “Downpour?”
“It’s not going to hit us super hard since we’re under the tree.”
“Okay.” She looked down and pulled her hands free from my sweatshirt. “Sorry. I didn’t realize, and it’s hard to see.”
“It’s okay,” I rasped. “Just try to get some sleep. Can you toss me one of the blankets or two? I’ll pull them over us.”
“Yeah.” She grabbed both down blankets and abruptly turned toward me, nailing me in the head with her chin. “Ouch!”
“Wow.” I stretched my face. “Strong chin.”
“It’s dark.”
“It’s the mountains.” I rubbed the side of my head and pulled the blankets over us, then reclined on the pillow. She slowly stretched out next to me.
I put the flashlight between us, casting a glow on her face. “You know something?”
“What?” She tucked her hands under her head.
I didn’t touch her, but I wanted to. “You’re pretty.”
Her eyes widened, but I chose to turn off the light, just like I turned off all temptation.
I wasn’t sure how much more space my heart could make for someone in this world, knowing that they could be taken, too. It wasn’t something people really thought about until they were faced with it.
Loss.
You can’t just replace what’s been lost. You can make room for more, but why take that risk? And I genuinely—despite what almost everyone thought—liked Hazel.
She’d probably marry a rock star or something.
Someone totally against the grain.
I smiled to myself as she started to snore softly next to me. Yeah, she’d be the pain in the ass who brought home a guy with long hair and an obsession with guitars, drumsticks, and weed.
I almost burst out laughing. Her dad would shit a brick.
My smile fell as my brain continued stupidly functioning in that little scenario: her getting married and taking pictures by her tree.
Maybe wearing something from her great-grandma.
And me, alone, next door, while Dad traveled to keep himself busy.
Me in an empty house, keeping my grief at bay.
Me fixing a motorcycle and finally finishing college, going to a boring job, just because that’s what you did.
Dating but not feeling it.
But why wouldn’t I?
I liked sex.
I liked women.
I liked the thrill of it all. So when did I lose interest in all of that, and why was picturing Hazel getting married and moving on with her life as she should so depressing?
In an effort to get close to her, I’d made fun of her once. And then it was just…gone. I graduated, she stayed, then I stayed, and she left for college. Why would that even matter?
“I want that for you,” Mom had said when I was in high school.
“What?” I looked next door where she pointed.
Sure enough, Great-Grandma Nadine was sneaking out of the house, cane and all, and walking down the street toward her lover’s house. And just like clockwork, Mr. Casbon looked out his blinds like a peeping Tom and hurriedly opened the door as he escorted her in.
She was carrying a bottle of wine.
And he was wearing one of his notorious Hawaiian shirts.
One time, I’d asked him if he’d ever been, and he just laughed and said he experienced it through his lover.
Aka, Great-Grandma Nadine.
Another time, I asked him where he kept buying them, and he said she bought them for him when she went or when she shopped because each and every one meant she was thinking of him. It was all the vacation he needed.
“Yeah,” I’d said to Mom. “They’re sneaking around like teenagers.”
“It’s fun,” she said. “Fun. Relationships should be fun.”
I didn’t get it at the time, but maybe now that’s what I got. A girl with a shovel, a giant hill, snoring, and awkward pranks.
Love maybe shouldn’t be safe but a hazard to your health.
I flipped back over. Though I didn’t need a flashlight to see her shine, even though it was pitch-black.
I pressed my palm to her cheek and fell asleep.
Chapter Ten
“Mornings tend to be awkward after you spoon and then somehow manage to get naked to share body heat. There is no other reason other than heat. Heat. Heat. Heat. Swear. It’s only heat.”—Hazel Titus
Hazel
It was warm, so very warm. I was suddenly pumped I hadn’t brought a tent because this one was amazing. There was no need for me to be upset about the fact that I’d forgotten—
My eyes suddenly blinked open, and I stared down at the blanket I was clutching. Not a blanket, not a blanket.
No, that would be a sweatshirt that belonged to an arm, and that nice, warm, comfy feeling would be the person attached to all the things pressing close against me.
I should pry free, but I was freezing.
And he was so warm.