Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
He’s got a lot of those shirts, I suddenly realize. And this is as good a place to start as any because I’ve never once asked him about it.
“What is that shirt?”
He’s still side-eyeing me. And his answer comes back past his cigar. “What?”
I nod to the shirt. “Are part of them?”
He looks down, like he’s not sure, then chuckles as he takes a beer out of the six pack and twists the top. “You can’t be a part of them, Locke. They don’t exist.”
I roll my eyes.
“And anyway,” he continues, “you get kicked out if you make a shirt declaring you’re Anonymous.”
“Whatever, asshole. I was just making conversation.”
“I’m not part of Anonymous. It’s a joke.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem funny.”
“That’s because you’re not in on the joke.”
We look at each other. He’s quiet. And even though I came here to say something, the shirt thing wasn’t the ‘in’ I had hoped for and now he’s probably wondering what the fuck I’m doing.
“Just kiss me.”
“What?”
“Locke, you’re staring at my mouth—“
“I’m literally not.”
“Now you’re looking at my dick.”
“Dude—“
“And you’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“That look you give me when you’re all turned on and shit.”
I smile, then lean back in the chair a little. Relaxing. “Why you gotta bust my balls like this?”
“Because you’re so easy, Locke. You’re just too easy. You wouldn’t make it ten minutes in my weekly Anonymous group.”
“Now you’re just being an asshole.”
“I’m not anonymous, dickface. I just…” He lets out a long sigh. “I just wish I was.”
Then he drinks.
And I think. “It would be nice, I guess.”
“I sold the house.”
“What? When?”
“Last week. I’ve got a thirty-day escrow. I’m taking Nova on a little trip.” He looks over at me. “And you’re not allowed to tell me no.”
“Where are you going?”
“She can tell you when she gets back.”
“What about Veda?”
“I’ll drop by for birthdays and New Year’s.”
“But… you love her. Don’t you?”
“Fuck yeah, I do. But Locke, this isn’t my life. This is your life. And Nova’s life. I need to go. I need to do something. Accomplish something. Something more than selling my best friend in a revenge scheme.”
I look away. Because I did that too.
It’s so ironically not-funny that what comes around really does go around.
“When are you leaving?”
Olsen lets out a long sigh. Then he slowly turns his head to look at me. “I would like you to know that we’re good.”
I just stare at him.
“That’s why you’re here, right?”
I nod. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It really was a fresh start and new beginning.”
We both grin and think about Mercer.
“I was in for good, Locke. I wasn’t coming back from that time. I wasn’t. Even if I got out early. I was ruined until you found me. My life was over until you came along so do not feel bad about any of it.” He waves his hand towards the sea. “Beachfront, dude. It’s like a fucking fantasy.”
Now it’s my turn to side-eye him. “Don’t even go there.”
He smiles. Takes another sip of beer, then he gets up and extends his hand to me.
I just stare at it for a moment. Then look up at his eyes. And I know, with a hundred-percent certainty, this is it.
The end of Olsen and Locke.
I take his hand, stand up, and then we’re kissing.
His hands come up to my face and we do it slow.
A real, honest-to-fucking-god goodbye kiss.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – NOVA
He didn’t tell me where we were going. And the reason he didn’t tell me is because he knows I don’t want to be here.
I want to be anywhere, but here.
Travis reaches for me as we enter the town.
My town.
His town.
Our hometown.
It’s… dead. Like people just packed up and walked away. It was never big. Not even in my little-girl mind. It was always a very small place. Just two intersections, really. That’s it.
And all of it is closed down. Dead things, everywhere. Dead laundromat. Dead bar. Even a dead post office. When the post office packs their bags, you know you’re town is really dead.
We crawl down the street in the rented red pick-up truck. And I know where he’s going even though it’s not even there anymore.
The Dairy Queen is just an old abandoned building with boarded-up windows. And when he turns into the parking lot, I hold my breath.
Because I don’t know if this was real or not.
Then Travis is reaching for my hand. Squeezing it. Pulling me towards him. I crawl over the center console and sit on his lap.
I put my head on his shoulder, still unsure if it was real.
And then I just… cry.
Because it was.
The next time I look up the sun is low in the sky and the day is almost over.
“Done now?” Travis asks.
I nod, then slip off his lap and back over into my own seat. “Can we go?”