Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 59671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Left,” Jameson says, Elliot turns to the left. “I mean right.” Elliot swerves the car to the right.
“Ahhh,” We all hang on for dear life as Elliot speeds down the street.
“Slow down,” Christopher yells. “I want to make it there alive; you know.”
“If we don’t make it there on time, I’ll be driving us over a cliff,” I announce as I run my hands through my hair. “I hope you are all prepared for that.”
“There are no cliffs in New York,” Harry replies sarcastically.
“Bridge,” I sneer through gritted teeth. “A big, huge, giant fucking bridge.” I crack my knuckles.
So help me god, this kid might actually die today.
“It says here turn left,” Jameson says as he reads the maps on his phone. “But I know a shortcut.”
“Oh my god,” the car collectively screams. “No, don’t do it.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Christopher snaps. “Follow the maps.”
“Trust me on this.”
“You do not know a fucking shortcut. You have a driver everywhere you go,” I call.
“My driver knows shortcuts,” he barks.
“Your driver isn’t here,” we all cry in unison again.
Christopher leans over and snatches the phone from Jameson. “Turn left,” he yells.
Elliot screeches the tires as he makes a sharp left. “Ahhh.” We all hang on for dear life.
“Do you have your seat belts on in the back?” I call.
“Yes,” replies Fletcher. “Patrick doesn’t.”
“What?” I turn my head to see Patrick fussing around with his seat belt. “What are you doing back there?”
“It won’t.” He struggles some more. “It won’t click in.”
“Help him,” I yell to Fletcher. “Why are you just sitting there?”
“Left,” Christopher yells, the car screams around the corner at speed and we all hang on again. “Right up here.”
We slow down behind a queue of traffic and I drag my hand down my face. “This is not what I had in mind, Harrison.”
He smiles goofily up at me and puts his hand on my thigh. “But it’s fun, right?”
“No,” the whole car cries.
Unable to help it, I smirk. “Maybe a little bit.”
We maneuver through the city and I glance at my watch. “The wedding starts in forty minutes. We’ll never make it!”
“It’s just up here around the corner,” Christopher cries.
“Where will I park?” Elliot calls as he grips the steering wheel. “Oh no, it’s a one-way street.”
“This is the most fucking stressful day of my life,” Jameson yells, he opens the glove box in search of something. “Bingo.” He pulls out a can of deodorant and undoes his shirt and sprays it on. “I’m sweating like a pig.”
“Pass it back here,” I yell.
“Don’t use it all, I don’t have any on in the first place,” Patrick calls from the back seat.
“Because you’re a kid,” Jameson growls.
The deodorant gets passed around the car as we all put it on in a mad fluster.
“I don’t know where to park,” Elliot yells. “There’s nowhere to park.”
“Just pull over, we will get out. Circle the block a few times.” I undo my seat belt. “Boys, you are all coming with me.”
“What?” Fletcher replies. “Shouldn’t we stay in the car?”
“We stay together,” I yell. “Out of the fucking car right now.”
The car pulls up and I jump out, Harrison next, and the two boys in the back seat dive over the seat in a chaotic mess of arms and legs. The car behind us beeps its horn. “Shut up,” Jameson bellows out the window as he slaps his hand on the side of the car. “Don’t make me come back there.”
“Where is it?” I yell to Christopher through the window.
“Around the corner to the left.”
I grab Patrick’s hand. “Run.” We take off up the street like maniacs.
“My shoes are hurting me,” Harrison yells.
“Not as badly as I want to,” I yell back, I glance at my watch. “Half an hour.” I speed up. “Faster.”
We finally arrive at the suit shop, push the door open panting messes, and the lady smiles calmly. “Hello.”
“Hi.” I pant and point to Harry. “Suit.”
She looks him up and down. “Hmm, it doesn’t fit whatsoever, does it?”
“No.” I fume, I glance at my watch. “We have to be at the church in twenty-six minutes. Hurry up.”
Her face pales. “Oh dear. This way, I have them all laid out for you.”
Harry and she disappear into a changing room and the boys and I all fix our hair in the reflection in the window. I try to smooth Patrick’s hair and fix his tie, I neaten Fletcher and then myself, I glance at my watch. “Hurry up,” I yell. “We have twenty-one minutes to get to the church.”
“Ta-da.” Harry appears and holds his hands out like he’s a magician in a perfectly fitted suit.
“I’ll ta-da you alright,” I fume. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll just…” the woman from the shop says as she goes to her computer.
“Not now,” I yell as we run out of the shop, I look up and down the street. “Where are they?”