Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Jesse kisses the top of my head and it makes me feel warm all over. “Thank you,” I say.
He gives me a tight smile and lets me loose from the hug. “I’ll be on the ice when you’re done. Just, uh, make some kind of noise if you need help.”
I laugh. “Like a bird call or something?”
“Something,” he says. “I’ll keep an ear out.”
I leave Jesse, take the deepest breath of my life, and then head toward my family.
Mom spots me first. She’s a big woman and she gives the best hugs on the planet. The moment she sees me, she rushes towards me with her arms out wide and the only thing I want is to hug her, too.
I squeeze her tight and she squeezes me tighter. “It’s okay, Baby,” she says, rubbing her hand down my hair.
Unexpected tears fill my eyes. I wipe at them, nodding and laughing as she rocks me from side to side.
Dad walks up. He’s a string bean with bowed legs and a permanent frown. He’s also prone to the occasional sarcastic line and his trademarked dry humor. He’s less of a hugger and more of the “here’s an approving nod or wink” kind of guy. But those nods and winks can feel almost as good as a hug from him.
I eye him over mom’s head. She’s almost comically short, which makes my tall dad seem even taller.
For a few seconds, he says nothing. Then he finally comes toward me and joins mom in hugging me. I’m surprised and touched by the gesture and find even more tears spilling out of my eyes.
When I finally step back from the hug, I’m wiping my eyes and laughing. “I’m sorry I ran off like that. I just–”
“It’s okay,” Mom says. “Landon helped us understand.”
I raise an eyebrow, looking at Dad, who nods. “He read your note to us and said it made sense. He said we should give you a little space, but thought it’d be okay for us to come now that we knew where you were.”
“I was worried we were being too pushy until your texts this morning,” my mom says.
I squint. “Did you just get here today?”
“Two days ago,” she admits with a sheepish smile. “We were trying to wait until the time felt right. Your Uncle and Bree just got in last night, though.”
“Wow,” I say. Something heavy I didn’t know was pressing down on me feels like it slides away.
We spend a few minutes catching up before Bree finally spots me. She rushes over, hugs me, and then punches me.
Bree is thirty years old, a recovering goth, and she has always been the counterpoint to my blinding optimism. When people meet us, they usually say we’re like yin and yang. “That is for ghosting me, dick.”
I grin. “I deserve it. But now we’re even because you seriously came all the way out here without warning me? What if I went on a trip or something?”
“A vacation from your vacation, you mean? I was banking on that not happening. But yes, you do deserve the punch.” Bree keeps her hair cut short and wears her blonde bangs in a severe, straight line. She only stopped dying her hair black a few years ago. Sometimes, I think it’s funny that I’m the one with naturally black hair and my habitually cynical friend is the one with sunshine blonde hair.
“So?” she says. “Where’s the guy?”
“What guy?”
She folds her arms. “The guy. I’ve known you long enough to know there’s a guy. Point to him now or I’m going to walk out there and demand to know who has been plowing my friend’s fertile fields for the last week.”
“Nobody has been–” I stammer, glancing toward my parents, who are thankfully distracted because Uncle Paul is showing them something on his phone. “Okay, okay. That’s him,” I point toward Jesse. Less than a minute alone with my best friend and I’m already proving I’m not nearly the great secret keeper I thought I was. Nice.
Jesse is already on his skates and leading a group of three boys around. He points to one of their skates while we watch, says something, and all four of them break into laughter.
“My, my, my,” Bree says, clicking her tongue. “No wonder you ran so fast and so hard.”
“I didn’t know he was going to be here. I ran because… well, I told you why. Jesse just happened to come rescue me when I crashed my car.”
Bree turns slowly, blinking in dramatic fashion. “You crashed your car? This wasn’t a detail you thought I should know when I asked if you were okay and you said ‘totally fine’”?
“It was a minor crash,” I say. “And I had rescuers there in minutes. It really wasn’t a big deal.”
“Is your car totaled?”
“Um. Well, yeah. But it’s fine. I could barely afford to put gas in it, anyway. Destroying my car has actually been a good financial decision for me.”