Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Maybe it wouldn’t have been better to stay on the free library shelf. To sit on someone’s coffee table for three months, collecting the smell of cigarettes and watching reruns of Friends, while issues of Cosmo and Golf Digest scatter around me.
But perhaps I would’ve gone to Africa or Paris or on a ship at sea, so I’m grateful some of us stayed on the little bookshelf, and I wish them well on their journeys.
My boy still needs me, though. My travels can wait, because I will live much longer than him.
He folds me in his fist, and once in a while I feel a drop of water from his face as we go back home.
Drip, drip, drip.
I turn my face out the window, so he can’t see my eyes. He submitted this with my application. Mine. Not his. He didn’t want anyone to know this about him. I raise my thumb to the corner of my eye, wiping away the wet.
I don’t need him to explain anything to me, but I’m glad I read this. He hides so much that I get used to thinking he’s not complicated, or that he never feels pain. He’ll blow it off if I bring it up, but I’m glad I know this. We don’t have to talk about it. Not yet anyway.
“Who is that?” he says.
I look ahead as he cruises across the bridge and see a girl standing up on the ledge. They need a damn fence. Most bridges have one.
The white hair flies in the breeze.
“It’s the Dietrich kid,” I tell him. “Stop for a second.”
He draws in a breath, impatient, but he cruises up to the side and stops.
“Thomasin,” I call.
She doesn’t turn, just stares down at the water dressed in jean shorts, black leggings underneath, and a big, yellow hoodie.
“Tommy,” I say her nickname instead.
She turns and looks at us over her shoulder. Her expression doesn’t change.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
She doesn’t reply, just stares at us.
“Do you need a ride?” I press.
She doesn’t respond, and I try to see if she has earbuds in, but then I hear Kade next to me.
“Get. Down,” he bites out slowly.
And very quietly.
I look over at him, his gaze only slightly turned toward her, but it’s stern.
I glance back at her, and she starts to spin, but then she wobbles. I grab the door handle, and I feel Kade jolt, but then she throws out her arms, twirls, and drops back down to the street next to my car.
I breathe hard, my pulse racing. She quirks a smile and walks back the way we just came, toward the Falls.
“Shit,” I grumble, laughing under my breath.
I look over at Kade, but he’s not smiling. Eyes flat, he shifts into Drive and hits the gas, any sign that he’s in a good mood now gone.
Reaching into the glovebox, I take out a coin and flip it over the bridge as we head into Weston.
By the time we get to school, the parking lot is packed. Most people have been here for a couple of hours already, and we stroll in, finding the gym crowded. People dance, surrounded by tables and balloons and whatever else parents were able to donate, and I spot Farrow and Constin hanging by the drinks.
Surprisingly, they’re in suits, which concerns me more than I would ever admit. They don’t look like students anymore.
A year from now, they’ll be far from it if Dewitt is correct.
Constin’s outfit is black, including his shirt, while Farrow’s shirt is white like mine. None of us wear ties.
I approach, and they eye my brother at my side. I realize that having him over here last night might’ve been okay, but maybe not twice.
In any case, Kade holds out his hand to Farrow, all of us sober now.
“No hard feelings,” Kade says.
Farrow quirks a smile and shakes hands with him. “Oh, there are lots of hard feelings, but…not tonight. Be our guest.”
Kade’s happy with that and spots Arlet off to our right, moving to join her, while Constin heads to the dance floor.
“So, what happens Monday?” Farrow asks me when we’re alone.
I move in closer. “I think I have to go home.” I stare out at the crowd with him. “I’m missing my little sister grow up. And I’m going to need my brother.”
Now that I know he wants me close to him and has always wanted that, I need to make up for lost time.
I try to tamp down my grin. “Of course, I’ll miss having you as a roommate…and a…”
I look to him, and he chuckles. “Don’t you fucking call me uncle.”
We laugh, the truth finally out. He’s Ciaran’s son. I’m guessing my grandfather didn’t know until Farrow was older, otherwise he would’ve raised him and Farrow would’ve been in our lives from the beginning.