Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Still, I’d known I couldn’t stay long, especially if I wanted a short-term job. It would already be hard to get because who wanted to hire someone only to have to start over again a couple of months later? I could look for something temporary, but that would cut my options down. Or maybe…maybe I could still work evenings. I wasn’t sure when I’d ever have the time to grade papers or plan lessons, but I’d figure it out. I still couldn’t believe I got to even think that way—that soon I’d have to give grades, and hand out assignments, and kids would hate me…though hopefully not all of them. I didn’t look forward to that part, of course.
“Are you even listening to me?” Ross asked, and I realized I’d zoned out. That had been a major problem for me when I was younger—zoning out and too much energy. It wasn’t until a teacher went out of their way to talk to my mom about having me tested, that they figured out I had ADHD. A pill a day helped, but I’d also worked hard over the years, finding ways to settle myself.
“Sorry, what?” I replied.
“Considering I pay a big fat zero for rent right now, you pay too much. If you weren’t living with me, Dad wouldn’t be getting any money at all for it, and he’s okay with that. He would still be okay with it if—”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m paying.”
“How did I know you’d say that? Anyway, let me show you around the place.” He pointed in front of him. “Living room—obviously.” To the right. “Kitchen.” The apartment was open concept, one large space that looked bigger than it should be from how it appeared outside. There was a breakfast bar between the kitchen and the living room. Everything was light colors—whites, light grays, and blues. There was a balcony, and two hallways led off the living room, on opposite ends. Ross took me toward the left. “This is my room.” It was huge, with a second balcony and an en suite. I nodded and followed as we crossed toward what would be my space. The hallway was slightly longer, with three doors. He opened one of them, showing me my room, then moved on to the next. “And this is the bathroom. You don’t have your own, unfortunately.”
“That’s fine.” The only time in my life I’d had my own was in my studio in Chapel Hill.
“There are towels and toiletries in the hall closet.” He pointed to the third door. “I wasn’t sure about furniture.”
“I can get my own stuff. No worries.” Holy shit, how was I going to get my own stuff? I mean, it wasn’t that I’d expected Ross to have it. I didn’t want to mooch off him any more than I already felt like I was doing, but my studio had been partially furnished, and the stuff I’d had were old things I’d gotten at garage sales and secondhand stores. Most of it had been falling apart and not worth renting a U-Haul to bring it down.
“Cool. I’m so stoked you’re here.” Ross squeezed my shoulder. “When does the school year start, Mr. Wescott?”
I rolled my eyes, but I secretly loved hearing that. “Middle of August. Staff starts two weeks earlier, getting things together, organizing the classrooms, and all that.” There were things I’d have to get for that too. Definitely needed another job, at least for a while.
“You excited?” he asked, and I grinned.
“I can’t fucking wait,” I replied, before wincing. I should work on my language. That was all I needed—to accidentally let an f-bomb go in front of a bunch of twelve-year-olds.
“Good for you. Anyway, I need to head out. I’m meeting up with someone. I put your key on the counter, and also the elevator code.” I’d used the intercom when I’d arrived, and Ross had let me up. “We’ll have dinner tonight, yeah?”
“Okay. I need to go grocery shopping. I’ll grab something.”
I was thankful when he didn’t argue. Ross said his goodbyes and left, and I stood there looking around this apartment that was the nicest place I’d ever lived in. This was it. My future was starting that day.
* * *
Since arriving in Atlanta a few weeks before, I’d managed to do a good job avoiding Harrison. The fact that I didn’t have to try very hard, yet I was still thinking about him, should have told me something. I tried to convince myself it was because the sex had been great and I didn’t let myself have a whole lot of it, but if I were honest, I’d admit how much he’d interested me from the start.
He hadn’t come by Ross’s apartment at all, which surprised me. I wanted to ask my friend if it was because of me or if this was typical for them. They weren’t working at the same dealership, so it wasn’t like they were seeing each other at work every day, and Ross did go to his place.