Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
“I guess when you tell me about Isaac blowing up your phone I’ll know that you’re not hiding anything.”
“Drake—” she says softly, but I’m tired of being nice.
“It’s not my business, Ali. Do whatever the hell you want.” I stomp on the clutch, put it into gear and drive down the grass field toward the house.
“He asked me about helping him with his biology homework, that’s all.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “I’m sure he did.” I shake my head and change gears without stalling and I guess it’s the anger that’s helping me figure this damn truck out.
“He was being nice to me. Which is more than I can say for some people.”
“Do you ever think the guys stay away from you because I’m your brother?” And maybe because I’ve threatened them, but I don’t say that to her.
“I’m sure that’s exactly why no one asks me out.”
“You’re too young to date,” is my quick response and I regret it because I sound just like Dad.
“Okay, Dad,” she says in an obnoxious voice and it pisses me off.
I pull up to the back of the house and knock the truck into park before I shut it off. “I don’t need your help with this anymore.”
“You owe the swear jar thirty-two dollars.”
I get out of the truck and slam the door, but before I go inside I lean into the open window. “Stay away from Isaac.”
She won’t look at me, and part of me is grateful. I don’t want to see the hurt in her eyes so I walk away. Why can’t we go back to the time when we stayed up all night playing video games and rode bikes for hours? I think back to that awesome summer when we got the slip-n-slide and how I broke two fingers because of the ramp she made me build. Or when Mom and Dad took us to New York for Christmas and we got to watch the tree light up in Rockefeller Center and drank hot chocolate until we were sick. Why can’t we go back to the way things were?
Because we aren’t kids anymore.
Chapter Five
Ali
Seventeen years old
“Everything looks terrible,” I groan as I stand in front of the three-sided mirror.
Whoever came up with the idea of this kind of mirror should be slapped. I don’t know if it’s me or the dress but I look like a hot mess. It probably doesn't help this is the twelfth dress I’ve tried on. I didn't know this was going to be a mini workout and I was not properly trained for this.
“Stand up straight.” My mom shakes her head at me as she pulls on my shoulder to make me straighten up. “Of course it looks bad when you slouch.”
“My boobs are going to fall out.” I tug the dress up so a nipple doesn’t try and escape. Nothing is fitting right because of them and they’re out of control.
“I have no idea where you got those,” Mom teases me with a small laugh.
They came in last summer out of nowhere. Mom is small all over, but we’re both on the shorter side. She’s slim but I’ve somehow exploded with curves. I feel like I’m too short for my body type and it makes me awkward. Mom keeps saying I’ll get used to it but I swear it's getting worse. It’s not just my appearance but I swear my insides are messed up too. I’m going to blame it on my period.
Lindsey thinks I’m nuts and that girls would kill for boobs like mine. Maybe they would, but finding clothes that fit sucks. I’m too top heavy and everything lies wrong. I just want to wear my jeans and a shirt to this dance. Hell, I’d settle for my school uniform. When I’m home I’m good in sweats because I want to be comfortable.
“Honey. We just need to get bigger sizes and we’ll have them taken in where it’s needed.” Mom’s eyes soften and when I glance in the mirror at myself I look like I’m about to cry. Maybe I am. Who knows, because my emotions are all over the place. “This is supposed to be fun,” she reminds me, and I let out a long sigh. She’s right, this was supposed to be fun and I’m ruining it with my attitude.
“I don’t even have a date,” I remind her.
I didn’t have plans to go to Homecoming and no one asked me, but Dad’s the reason we’re here. I’m always a sucker for him, and when he pulled me aside last week and told me Mom was so excited about Homecoming but worried I hadn’t brought it up, I knew what he was after.
I love my dad and he’s been so good to both of us but what I love most about him is how much he loves my mom. He went out of his way to ask me to do the Homecoming thing for her and I folded in less than half a second. He was right, though; I should be more excited about it. I don’t want to look back and regret not going to Homecoming because I had some chip on my shoulder about not belonging there or that Homecoming wasn’t my scene. My mom taught me that I need to put my best foot forward.