Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Then I pull out my photo albums because I can’t believe Colten Mosley actually got better looking with age.
I really, really hate him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Josie wasn’t the worst friend ever—for a girl.
“You sure do like balls,” she said as we rode our bikes to the batting cages.
I laughed. “That sounds bad.”
“Why?”
I made a quick glance behind me as her dark hair blew in the wind. “Because it sounds like you’re talking about parts of a body.”
“You mean testicles? If I meant testicles, I would have said it. I know all the parts of the human body.”
“Yeah.” I faced forward again to hide my grin. “I know you do.”
Josie didn’t look like a nerd, but she acted like one. It’s not that I didn’t like to read, but that’s all she did. Well, that and fish with her dad. I probably had no room to talk; I spent a lot of hours practicing piano. Mom was determined to have one of her boys play the piano. Chad wouldn’t even consider it.
“Am I your only friend?”
“No,” she scoffed.
“Because I haven’t seen you play with anyone else since I moved in next door to you.”
“Do you stare out your window and watch me all the time?”
“No.” Yes. Watching her house was my favorite pastime. Her dad seemed to like me. He ruffled my hair a lot the same way my dad ruffled my hair. Chief Watts looked intimidating in his uniform. He always appeared ready to crush something or someone. They had a two-stall garage attached to the house and another two-stall detached garage where he kept all kinds of free weights, a bench press, and a pull-up bar. Sometimes Josie would go ask him for permission to play with me while he was lifting barbells that I swore weighed more than Josie and I combined. Angry veins riddled his skin like the Hulk. And a really big one bulged along his forehead while his face turned as red as the cherry tomatoes Josie’s mom grew in five-gallon buckets on their porch.
“Jenn and Adrianna, my two best friends, are gone for the summer to Jenn’s grandparents’ house. They have a cabin on a lake in Wisconsin.”
“And they didn’t invite you?” I made another quick glance back at her, not at all hiding my grin. I liked picking on Josie. Whenever my mom heard me doing it, she rolled her eyes and assured Josie I was just pretending that I didn’t have a crush on her. Of course, I adamantly disagreed, but not because my mom was wrong.
She was right. However, I would rather have died than admitted it.
“They invited me. I just couldn’t go.”
“Why not?”
“Because Jenn’s dad got arrested for drinking and driving, and now my stupid dad won’t let me ride in the car with them, even though Jenn’s mom was going to do the driving.”
Why did it disappoint me that Josie had two best friends? Why did I secretly hope I was her only friend?
Oh, right … I had a huge crush on her.
We locked up our bikes and headed toward the cages.
“My dad said to always be careful if you’re here close to dark because a few years ago a boy our age was kidnapped. They never found him.”
“Then how do they know he was kidnapped?” I asked.
“Because he’s gone, stupid.”
“Maybe he didn’t like his family, and he ran away.”
“He was nine. Where does a nine-year-old go?” She pulled my bat out of my backpack and turned quickly before I could grab it back from her.
“If I ran away, I’d hide in the woods during the night and get free samples at the grocery store during the day. Sometimes, the gas station will give you free pizza and donuts if it’s the end of the day, and you pretend you forgot your wallet at home. They just throw them out anyway.” I shrugged.
“He’s dead. Someone took him and cut up his body. He’s in the woods, buried in pieces.”
I tried to hide my shock. Josie looked so innocent, but the things that came out of her mouth were not things most kids our age said. Her dad must have discussed his job around her. Of course, that didn’t explain why she had a collection of dead insects in her room or why she liked to hang out around the funeral home in hopes of seeing Roland Tompkins, the undertaker, to ask him a slew of questions.
“Anyone die today?”
“Have you ever put two people in one casket?”
“Are you going to be cremated or buried when you die?”
“Can you put ashes in a casket if you want to be cremated but still want to be buried too?”
Roland tolerated her because she was the police chief’s daughter. After the third or fourth question, he nodded toward our bikes and asked us if we had somewhere we needed to be. I would say “yes” at the same time Josie would say “no.”