Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
I pressed my forehead to hers and closed my eyes. “If there’s an afterlife, do you think our moms are friends?”
“Yes,” she quickly replied. “And I think they sent us to one another.”
I kissed her and felt the reality begin to settle in that I wouldn’t be able to do that freely once we returned to town. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Yes,” she softly said, her warm breaths melting against my skin.
“I already miss you, and you’re still here.”
She inched in closer, pressing her body against mine, resting her head against my chest. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Yes.”
“I missed you before I knew you existed.”
I drove the first few hours before nightfall, and Starlet finished up the ride home, pulling into my driveway a little after eleven o’clock. The only light that existed around the house was the front porch light, which always stayed on. Mom was the one who used to shut it off each night, but after she passed away, neither Dad nor I took on that responsibility.
Starlet shut off her car engine, and we sat quietly in the car for a few moments.
Neither one of us talked about what the transition of our return to town would look like. We didn’t discuss what was on and off-limits with our newfound secret friendship.
All we knew was that we couldn’t do what we’d done for the past two days.
“What now?” she asked, turning to look at me.
Her brown eyes seemed so sad, and I hated that. I never wanted her to look at me with sadness in her eyes. Some people’s eyes were built for sadness, but Starlet’s weren’t. They were built for smiles, laughter, and joy.
“I don’t know,” I told her. “But I know the second I get out of this car, everything has to change. And I don’t want it to change.”
She placed her hand against the console between us, and I placed my hand on top of hers. “Maybe we just act normal. Like friends,” she offered.
“I don’t normally eat my friends out for dessert,” I joked.
“Milo,” she scolded, growing bashful. “I mean it. We can’t do what we’ve done. It’s too risky.”
“Yeah. I know.” I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm. “So tell me what to do, Teach.”
Her lips trembled for a second, and her eyes flashed with emotions, yet she didn’t cry. “You’ll show up at school and pretend I don’t exist. I’ll do the same. Then we’ll meet in the library, and you’ll bring your sarcastic comments like before, and we’ll be who we were before we became…who we are.”
“When do we get to be who we are again?”
Her breath caught.
She didn’t answer.
My heart caught.
I stayed quiet.
“I’m sorry, Milo. I…we have to get you through these next few months and graduation.”
“Ninety-three days,” I said. “Ninety-three days until you’re mine.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve done the math?”
I nodded. “I’ve done the math.”
She bit her bottom lip, and a few stubborn tears rolled down her cheeks. “Everything in my head is telling me this is wrong. That I’m supposed to be smarter and not fall for you, not feel what I’m feeling, but my heart…it feels everything, and I don’t know how to shut that off, and I don’t think I want to, but I know this isn’t supposed to feel so right. But it does. You feel right to me, Milo. And that scares me. And it’s not fair of me to expect you to wait these next three months for us to figure out what we can be. That seems like a very selfish thing for me to ask you to do.”
I was still holding her hand. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to let it go.
“Starlet…I need you to understand something. Before you, I was sleepwalking through the coldest winter of my life. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it through. Then you came and saved me. So believe me when I say I can wait until spring to feel you again. I can wait until spring to make you mine.”
She leaned toward me and kissed me.
Her lips against mine, her unspoken truths falling into me through her taste.
We tried to kiss in that very moment, yet it felt like goodbye.
I wished it hadn’t.
I wasn’t ready for goodbye, not with her, at least, never with her.
We stayed connected as long as we could before I opened the door and said good night.
As she pulled away that evening, she didn’t know it, but she took pieces of my heart along with her. I didn’t mind. I knew if anyone would keep them safe, it would be her.
“She’s the one, Mom,” I muttered as I grabbed my suitcase.
The wind hit my face as if Mom said, “I know.”
CHAPTER 18
Starlet
I valued three people’s opinions most in my life—my mother, my father, and Whitney. One thing I was never able to do with Whitney was tell her a lie. She read me like an open book. The pages, paragraphs, sentences, and words of my story always rested right on my face. I was already worried about her finding out about the weekend, and I knew it would be impossible to hold it in.