Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“I won’t have you talk to me that way.”
“Then don’t call me.”
He sighed. “You do know that if you take money from your mom, that’s also money from me. Let’s just…put this behind us. You’re still my son. We’ll get past this. You’ll finish your last year and a half of school, then come home and work with me—”
“No,” I cut him off.
“How do you expect to survive? Outside of school and sports, you’ve never had to work for anything a day in your life.” Jesus, what was up with people telling me that? First, Braxton last night, and now my dad. “You have a lifestyle you’re used to keeping. Stop playing games, Tyson. What are you going to do when your tuition is due? If you think I’m going to let you treat me like shit and then come through next year, you’re wrong. And please tell me you’re being discreet about our little issues.” His cash and name had solved that problem too.
Because that was all he thought about—money. It was all he expected me to think about too, and…well, I couldn’t say I blamed him. I was quite fond of spending it. I was used to a certain lifestyle, but… “I don’t want your money, and I don’t want to talk to you.”
I ended the call and tried not to wonder about the brother I’d never met and the sister I’d only seen once. About the pain he’d caused them and my mom.
Loud laughter came from the direction of Adler House, and I looked up to see my friends coming out. “We need some fucking food, Langs,” Ford said. “We’re heading out to eat.”
I wasn’t stupid enough to give back the money I already had, but I was determined to stop myself from taking more money from him. If I did, he had me. I’d be stuck depending on him. My dad liked it that way.
I was going to need to get a job…and soon.
Fuck.
We walked to our favorite taco stand on the pier. It was a popular hangout area, and they had tables and chairs out front and along the promenade. I got three tacos because Ford was right. We were growing boys and all. I had to eat.
We met a few girls from campus and hung out with them until about nine, when everyone decided to hit up Shenanigans again.
An electric current zipped up my spine before I stamped that shit out. There was no reason for me to be excited to possibly see Braxton and talk shit to him again. I had a million other things to be concerned with.
“You guys going to take us to the championship this year?” Krista, I thought her name was, asked. “The football team did, but then, they have Peyton.”
“Peyton who?” I joked. Peyton Miller and I had this frenemies-rivals thing going on because we were both the best at our sports. I was way hotter, though.
“Ha-ha,” Krista replied.
“Also, fuck yes, we are. Is that really a question when the team has us?”
Watty, Collins, and Ford cheered, ass and backslapping me as we made our way to the bar.
One thing I loved about the area around campus was that everything was within walking distance. We had the beach across the street, the pier farther down, and Shenanigans between that and the school.
“I’m freezing my balls off,” Watty said. “I didn’t grab a hoodie.”
“It’s like fifty,” I countered, playfully trying to trip him.
“You East Coasters can handle this weather. I’m a SoCal boy for life, and my ass needs a fucking hoodie if it’s under sixty.” We all laughed. I pulled mine off and gave it to him, which prompted Watty’s, “Aw, are you asking me out? I don’t swing that way, but I might be willing for you.”
My friends were fucking idiots. “You’re not hot enough for me.”
“Dude, Langs just called you ugly,” Collins teased.
“Why are boys so dumb?” Krista asked.
Moments like this, I could almost forget all the other shit going on in my life, but it was still there, waiting for the perfect time to spring out.
We got to Shenanigans. The building was hella old, aged by the weather, but it had four walls and alcohol, so who cared? Oscar, the owner, did get a new paint job last year, but the white was already slightly dirty.
“What up, man?” I asked the guy at the door.
“What’s up?” We showed him our IDs, and he gave us daisy wristbands.
I hated myself for it, but the second I stepped inside, my gaze went straight to the bar to see if Sunshine was there.
It was busy as hell, especially considering how early it was. The counter was surrounded by people, but it didn’t take me more than a second to spot him pouring vodka into a glass. He had on a black T-shirt that was tight across his chest. I couldn’t see his jeans, but I assumed they were the same color since they typically were. He wore them slightly loose so they hung below the band on his underwear, which I saw and maybe drooled over when he stretched in class. So sue me.