Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
“What do you want to do when you graduate?”
His head snaps toward mine at the unexpected question before focusing on the road again.
“I mean, I’ve still got a year of school left, and while I’m a badass on the baseball field.” The man literally pauses to grin my way and I shove his shoulder. “I have no unrealistic notion of going further, and while I can’t say if someone came to me today and offered me a spot on a roster, that I wouldn’t accept it, but…”
“But?”
“But I’m simple folk.” He laughs at himself. “I kind of want to rise with the sun and be home before dark. Maybe have some kind of farm, but nothing fancy. Shit, I can manage with a buddy or two.”
“Aw, that’s so cute.”
“Aye, Mommy, don’t say that.” He shakes his head with amusement. “Sounds like a good life though, don’t it?”
“Yeah, it does.” I take another long, slow drink, letting the cold linger on my tongue until my teeth grow sensitive. “So, what are you majoring in, then?”
“Bullshit that keeps my grades decent enough to play. My coach helped me figure it out, but turns out, he’s a prick who only cares about himself, fucked my buddy, Tobias, over pretty good, so I should probably go see a counselor.”
I almost spit out my Slurpee, laughing at him. “Ah, fuck it.”
Xavier’s grin widens, and he too grabs his ICEE, but he’s not skilled like me, and not ten seconds later, he’s gripping his head with a grunt.
Boys, such crybabies.
“All right, I had strict instructions to deliver you to the back door, however, that tow truck looks like he’s got his work cut out for him.”
I look to find the truck attempting to wedge between two buildings, a broken-down van, hidden in the dark. “Oh, that looks sketch.”
“Girl, it’s eleven p.m., not much isn’t.” He shrugs, reversing and pulling around the side. “Front entrance, it is. I’ll just be sure to walk you in.”
“Good save,” I tease.
Climbing from the truck, I wait in front of it for Xavier to lock up, and a car comes down the street. The black El Camino rolls slowly by, and a small frown builds along my brow when a flash of silvery-black hair catches my eye.
“Hey, X…”
The car speeds off, burning out before shredding from the parking lot.
“Whoa, that thing’s got some power.” Xavier steps up, concern drawing his brows in when he spots me. “You good?”
“Yeah. Let’s go inside.”
Just as we make it through the door, I spot Crew disappearing around the corner, so I stay beside X until we’re close, and then break off, heading up to the office.
My feet lock in place, eyes bulging as I reach the room’s threshold.
It’s free of Crew, so I have no clue where he went, but right now, I don’t even care.
This is the space I was in not three days ago; yet it looks nothing like the stuffy, broke down place it did before. Not in the slightest.
A sudden tsunami whirls in my stomach, my hand shooting out to catch the frame of the door, my knees literally threatening to grow too weak to hold my body up. My blood runs warm, yet a shiver runs down my spine.
The dusty cream walls have been painted a soft gray, the window free of the ancient, split blinds, and in their place, dark-blue curtains, sheer enough to allow the sun in before dark.
The rickety bookshelf is nowhere to be found, a larger one in its place, the color a perfect match to the curtains, everything placed exactly as I had it on the other—a little messy, a lot left to do, but on its way to being organized.
The cot in the corner is still there, but it sits nearly twice as high, a fluffy gray comforter draped over it and hiding the bottom, blue pillows perched against the wall to make it look like a cozy couch or perfect reading nook.
There’s a whiteboard on the wall above it, a giant crisscross square in the center, ready and waiting for a game of tic-tac-toe.
My eyes grow cloudy, my fingers shaking as they rise to press at my lips.
This is…
“You were supposed to wait so I could see your face when you walked in.”
Crew’s gravelly tone wraps around me from behind, and my chest inflates with a deep inhale.
“I’m pretty sure my face has yet to leave the state of holy shiznit, he did not, he so did, this is… yeah.”
Crew laughs loudly and comes around to step in front of me because I can’t seem to make my feet shift or head turn to face him.
He calls my eyes to his, bending and getting into my direct line of sight.
My lips press firmly together to keep from crying like a baby, but I don’t think I’m doing a good job. Crew’s face transforms, the amusement fading into something deeper, softer, and I want to bottle the expression and keep it forever. The vulnerability, dipped and wrapped in pride, is a good look on him.