Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“No, of course not. I’m ashamed of how I acted.” She flushed and looked away. “You’ve made me realize that how I’ve conducted myself lately…is slowly pushing you away.” Her voice turned shaky as if she were on the verge of tears. “And if I lose you in the process, I suppose I deserve it.”
There it finally was—some modicum of true remorse. And though I was glad to hear it, it did nothing to assuage the melancholy I felt over it all.
“You’re not going to lose me, Mom.” I sighed. “But it’ll definitely make me think twice about what I share with you.” Not that I wasn’t already careful around her. Though maybe if I’d shared more, it might’ve helped her understand what made Skylar so special. But I had a feeling she wouldn’t have given him a chance regardless. “The thing that gets me is you passed judgment without even knowing them. His mom is nice and funny. And Skylar, well…he’s a great person. And a good friend. And he’s made me see different sides of myself that I’d never considered before.” I made a frustrated sound. “You snub your nose at him because he works at a bar, but who are you to judge? He’s an amazing gymnast and dancer, and he designs clothes; some of his creations are really good.”
Mom was staring openly at me now. “You’re in love with him.”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. That has nothing to do with—”
“Does he know?”
“No. Like I said, we’re just friends, and…want different things.” My stomach tightened uncomfortably. “And even if he did and felt the same, he’d never feel welcome around you, and that sucks.”
She winced. “Well, I sure did make a mess of things.”
I nodded, the tension in me abating a bit now that we’d laid it all out on the table and knew where we stood.
“What was that saying you always had when I was a kid?” I stood up and motioned with my hand, needing time to weed through my feelings. “Don’t cry over spilled milk. Just go clean it up.”
39
Skylar
It had been a crazy week. Surprisingly, Mom really had called and made an appointment with a therapist. She hadn’t had it yet, and I knew that wasn’t a magic fix, but I hoped it would help her feel better about herself. I wanted her to see how great she was, to see what I did when I looked at her, and to know she didn’t need a man to be whole. I didn’t know if it would last or help, but I hoped so. My mom deserved to be happy. She was a good person, and that was all that mattered.
It took me a couple of days to pull my head out of my ass and contact Star about the job. Even after my talk with Mom, I was being…well, dramatic, which I might or might not be known for. But then all I could think about was how much I wanted it. The only way to get what I wanted was to try. Not only that, but if I wanted Mom to see she was good enough on her own or that it didn’t matter what other people thought, maybe I should show her I felt the same. The practice-what-you-preach thing.
That was how I found out Star had a family emergency and had taken some time off. She’d had it on her list to call me but hadn’t gotten to it. She offered me the job on the spot. It was weird, telling Jesse I was leaving the Playground, then giving my two-week notice, but I knew that eventually Jesse would leave too. He was in school, as was Seth. In the near future, they’d have a new crew of boys there, but—obviously—they wouldn’t be as hot as we were.
That just left Clark.
This part was the scariest because it meant the most to me—he meant the most to me. I knew all the things Mom had said to me, all the things I’d said to her, and I believed them. I really did, but this was Clark. He made me feel…different. Better. I loved him. I’d never thought I’d have that, and I sure as shit never thought I’d want it. Despite what Mom and I had talked about, all I kept thinking about was losing him, or being wrong for him, coming between Clark and his family, and him resenting me for it.
But God, I wanted him.
Missed him.
Loved him.
“Come on, Sky. You can do this,” I told myself in the mirror after I finished putting on my lip gloss. Love had turned me into someone who gave himself pep talks in the mirror, which was kind of funny and oddly sweet.
I checked my makeup—eye shadow, mascara, and some highlight. It looked perfect. I’d blended really well today, and now that I looked good, it was time to go get my man.