Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Thanks for the ride.” I jump down from the car and swing my bag over my shoulder. The chilly night air has me rubbing my arms as I make my way up to the house. Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s any getting out of telling my mom the truth. I’ll just have to convince her that it was random. That I’m not the target. Everything is fine. I’m fine.
I stop short when I notice my car. In my driveway. With four brand new tires. As if nothing ever happened.
“What the hell?” I circle the car, giving it a quick once-over. How did she already take care of it? I wonder if the school called her. Or, more likely, the towing company. Bracing myself for the third degree, I walk up the porch and open the front door. I follow the rustling sound coming from the kitchen and find my mom standing at the counter with a plethora of takeout boxes.
“Just in time,” she says, reaching for some plates from the cabinet above her head. “I ordered Chinese. Figured you’d have a late night.” She scoops some noodles onto a plate. “How was the game last night? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”
I stand there watching her load my plate up with the chicken and vegetables, waiting for her to mention the car.
She rounds the counter, setting the plate down in front of me before pulling me in for a hug. “What, you didn’t miss your mom?” she asks when I don’t return her hug right away.
“Sorry,” I say, snapping out of it and wrapping my arms around her. “Long day. I’m out of it.”
She pulls back, assessing. “Why didn’t you drive today?”
“Hmm?” I look up at her. “Oh, I rode with Valen.”
She nods, not questioning the lie, then goes to make a plate for herself. A thought occurs to me, and I bend down, fishing my keys out of the front pocket of my backpack. But they’re not there. Unzipping the main compartment, I tip it over, dumping out all the contents. No keys.
What the hell? I know they were in here. I threw them in after locking my car up when Ashley gave me a ride. I stand abruptly, speed walking toward the front door.
“Where are you going?”
“I forgot something in my car,” I throw over my shoulder. I jerk the door open, running down the porch and to my car. Pulling on the handle, I find it unlocked, my keys sitting in the driver’s seat. My brain is about to short circuit wondering who’s fucking with me now, waiting for the punch line, when something dangling from the rearview mirror catches my attention.
The key from the barn. Thayer. I unhook the key from the mirror, feeling the cold, rusted metal in my palm. He did this? Why? Why would he go out of his way to help me? And why return the key? If sending mixed signals were an Olympic sport, he would be a gold medalist.
Maybe it’s a trick. Maybe it means nothing at all. But I can’t help wondering if this is the old Thayer coming back to me little by little.
Shayne
“I can’t believe I’m here of my own free will,” I say, bringing the red plastic cup of beer to my lips. Valen and I already had some drinks while we got ready at my house, and I realize I’m not as uncomfortable as I thought I’d be. Holden begged us to come by tonight, and I’ve actually started to let my guard down with him a little bit. I said no at first, but then Valen talked me into it because Liam canceled his visit this weekend, and she wanted a distraction.
“Is it weird being back?” Valen asks, scanning the crowd of people. The house is bursting at the seams, and somehow, that makes me feel better. Everyone’s too preoccupied with getting trashed and finding someone to hook up with, making it easier for me to blend. “I mean, since you used to live here?”
Nodding, I lick the excess beer from my lips. “Yep,” I say, the word popping from my mouth. I spot Holden coming our way from the other room, making his way through the throng of drunk people. I think everyone in town between the ages of seventeen and twenty-five is here. That’s nothing new, though. With the Ames boys all being different ages, their parties have always been a mix of both high school and college. But they’re usually more selective of who and how many people they let in. This…this is on another level.
“Well, look who didn’t puss out!” Holden yells, holding out his arms. When he bends his knees and wraps his arms around my waist, I let out a surprised squeal, holding my beer out as he spins me around.