Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Driving down the main road, I see Brie again, and I wonder where she lives. She’s walking fast with her arms crossed over her chest and her shoulders hunched forward as if she’s bracing for a blizzard or something.
I glance at her one last time through the rearview mirror before I focus my gaze on the road ahead.
When I get home, I kick off my shoes at the front door and drop my bag in my room. Changing into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, I go check on my mother.
I’m quiet as I enter her room, and when I sit down on the bed, she glances up at me. A slight smile graces her lips. “Hey, how was school?”
I lie down and hug her. “It was okay. Nothing spectacular.”
“Do you have a lot of homework?” she asks, and the fact that she still shows an interest in my life gives me hope that she’ll be back to her old self… one day.
“Yeah, but I first want to pull the weeds from the flower beds. Do you want to sit on the porch and keep me company?”
She shakes her head. “Another time.”
Getting up, I suppress a sigh. I walk to the kitchen and grab a bag, then head out to the front. Crouching by a flower bed, I begin to pull the weeds out. The work keeps my mind busy until I’m breathless. I sit back and rest my forearms on my knees. I glance over the area I still have to do, and movement catches my eye.
Climbing to my feet, I’m surprised when I see Brie walking by my house. Curious where she’s heading, I wait until she’s passed by before I take a short cut through the flower bed. I stay a safe distance behind her so she won’t notice me.
A few houses from mine, she stops in a driveway and stares at the house.
Does she live there?
Fuck she walks far. Should I offer her a ride?
She pulls a phone from her pocket and stares at it before glancing back to the house. When she turns around, my heart almost stops, and I duck behind a row of hedges.
The next moment, Brie rushes past me. I step forward and peek around the leaves. She keeps glancing behind her and then breaks out in a run.
What the hell?
Did she see me?
When she’s out of sight, I walk back to my own house, and distracted by Brie’s weird behavior, I finish plucking all the weeds out.
After I’m done, I take a shower to clean all the sweat and sand off. Dressed in sweatpants and a fresh shirt, I sit down to do my homework until it’s time to prepare dinner.
By nine o’clock, all the chores are done, and I feel restless. I slip on my sneakers, thinking a run around the block might tire me enough to sleep.
I don’t bother telling Mom I’m heading out because she won’t even notice I’m gone.
Starting with a slow jog to warm up first, I glance at the houses as I pass them. Nearing the one Brie was staring at, I slow down and stop by the driveway. My gaze is drawn to the light shining from a bedroom on the second floor. With the curtains open, I have a clear view inside.
A girl comes into view, and the corner of my mouth lifts slightly. She shuts the door and turns toward the window. The smile on my face grows.
So Brie does live here.
With my eyes on her, I walk a little closer to the house. I watch as she brushes her long black hair, and it’s hypnotic, just like when she draws.
Suddenly, her head snaps toward the door, and I watch as a woman walks into the room. Brie cowers away from her, and when the woman starts to yell at her, waving her hands angrily, tension winds tightly in my chest.
Brie staggers backward until her back is pressed up against the window.
The breath is knocked from my lungs when the woman lunges forward. She grabs Brie’s arm and shoves her to the floor.
Without thinking it through, I run to the front door and pound a fist against the wood. My heart is hammering against my ribs, forcing the breaths to rush over my lips.
Finally, the woman, who I saw in Brie’s room, opens the door, her hand fluttering over her ginger hair in an attempt to compose herself.
“Can I help you?” she asks, and even though she’s breathless, she still manages to sound sugary sweet.
The atmosphere pours from the house. It’s explosive and hostile.
“I’m here for Brie.”
“Oh.” She eyes me up and down, and I know the earrings and nose ring don’t make a good impression. That’s why I got them. It keeps people at a distance. “It’s late,” she states, the look of disapproval on her face making it clear I’m unwelcome.