Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Snuggling between my legs, his erection growing between us, he unapologetically smiles down at me. And it happens like it always does between us––the all encompassing awareness my body has for his overrides everything else. Overwhelms me until all my senses are consumed by him. Except this time I push back. I don’t let it.
This time it doesn’t distract me from the very real fear I’m experiencing. And despite that I feel tethered to him in ways I know are unique and special and meant to be treasured, I also know that I’m not equipped to live life on a rollercoaster. I can barely handle a Ferris wheel. But that’s what Dallas is, a rollercoaster, and I never know when the ride starts or stops.
“This is who I am. You know that about me.”
“They’ll be o-other w-waves––you w-won’t get another life.”
He frowns and pauses to mull it over. “I’m not an amateur. I know how to handle myself out there…you can’t ask me to stop doing something I love, babe.”
He presses his hips into mine and I automatically press back. “I know,” I say as a fresh supply of tears fill my eyes. “I…I love you,” I confess. There’s a time and a place to risk it all, when the stakes require it, and now is that time.
I’ve always believed that if you love someone, you should say it. If you care, show it. If you feel something, let yourself feel it or you may never get the chance again.
“Number ten on my list…”
“Yeah,” he says, his interest piqued.
“It was t-to fall in love. And I did. I fell in love w-with you …”
I don’t want to lose you ever I want to say to him, but what if I’m just being paranoid?
The thing is––paranoid or not––I can’t stop being scared for him any more than he can stop risking his life.
Dallas
Life is a little less good today than it was a week ago. Dora barely said goodbye to me when I left a few hours ago and now she’s not answering my texts.
“Trouble in paradise?” Cole the dickhead asks when he catches me checking my phone for the fourteenth time.
“She was pissed about this trip…she said she had a bad feeling.”
“Whoah. I love little D, but do not bring that estrogen tainted voodoo shit along for the ride.”
“Cut it out, Cole,” the smarter Peterman orders from the passenger seat of Shane’s Range Rover.
“I will not cut it out when lives are at stake, brother––particularly mine. Everyone knows you do not talk jinxies right before you hit the water.”
“He’s right, dude,” Shane chimes in from the drive’s seat. “Words have power.”
Can’t argue with him there. Especially words like I love you.
She said it and I have yet to say it back. I mean, I love her. I love her more than anything or anyone I’ve ever loved. The love I had for Beth seems shallow in comparison. The kind of love a boy has for a woman he’s fascinated with because he doesn’t have the experience to compare it to anything else. The love I have for Dora is undeniable. I love her against my will. I love her because I can’t not love her.
But I also know that you can’t change who you are to please other people. That’s a sure fire road to resentment.
Taking the next exit, the Range Rover gets off the highway and the coast comes into view. Even though it’s still dark out, I can make out the monster waves the Pacific is already churning up today.
Shane parks on the cliffs overlooking the beach. We all hop out, and stare at the whitecaps below, the wind whipping our hair around. Then we share a knowing look. Shaka Brah’s words come back to me. Today is a good day to live.
Fifteen hours later the Range Rover pulls into my driveway, around 2 a.m. on Sunday morning. Banjo greets us at the door. I find a note in the kitchen telling me he’s been fed, walked, and his medication has been administered.
As tired as I am, I sprint up to my bedroom and find it eerily quiet without her there, to the point that it’s creeping me out. All her books are gone, her computer is missing. My heart rate picks up speed like it never has before. Not even when I faced that twenty-foot wave on Thanksgiving. I check my bathroom for her cosmetics and find those gone too. Five minutes later I’m mounting Cole’s bike and taking off for campus.
“I’m outside,” I say as soon as she answers her phone. It took me two calls to wake her up. My girl is a heavy sleeper…and she is my girl. For better or worse. All I have to do is convince her of that.
A few minutes later, she appears behind the glass door wearing her pajama bottoms with the cartoon dogs, a black tank top, and a pissed off expression. Pushing the door open, she steps outside. “You c-can’t come in. You’ll wake the whole dorm.” Her bun falls apart and she shakes out her hair and puts it back up.