Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Truman’s stomach had dropped, and he’d swallowed hard to dispel the disappointment. But by the time he’d gone to the grocery store that evening, he’d rewritten the story: it was sweet Guy had taken the time to return his pen because he didn’t want Truman to be without it.
Of course, now he realized that Guy had returned the Micron because he didn’t want his husband to see it in the car and know it wasn’t Guy’s since it wasn’t a two-thousand-dollar fountain pen.
Truman drooped.
He remembered Abel, the guy he’d dated before Guy. Abel had asked what he wanted to do one weekend, and Truman had told him he’d love to go out to dinner together. He hadn’t said he wanted a romantic meal. But it had been what he was picturing: candlelight, soft music, decadent food, and deep conversation. Abel had shown up with a sack of take-out tacos, then dragged him to a club where his friend’s band was playing. The next morning, hungover and exhausted, Truman had told himself that it was romantic that Abel had wanted Truman to meet all his friends.
Oh my god, I’m a disaster. I’m a disaster romantic.
Yup, wrote Charlotte.
Weeeeeeeeelllllllllllllllll. It was the closest Germaine would ever come to pronouncing it the truth.
So what do I do?! How do I fix it!?
I don’t think it’s something to fix, bb, it’s kinda just your personality.
Oh, it’s 100% fixable, Charlotte disagreed. You just have to realize that “romance” is a cultural concept, constructed from outdated and fictionalized notions of subjugating one’s autonomy to the notion of partnership. Then, every time you find yourself having these yearnings for shit and you don’t know why, ask yourself, “do I want this because movies and pop culture have trained me to believe I’m only loved if someone else gives this thing to me?” and soon you’ll see that you can tease apart your actual, individual desires from the mess of capital-R romance that society spoon-feeds us.
There was silence then.
Finally, Germaine wrote, OR you can just be honest about what you want, to yourself and to the next person you date. It’s ok to want things!!!
They added, (also, C, are you using talk-to-text cuz hot damn).
Circling back to the issue at hand, Charlotte wrote, what does flower boy look like???
Truman laughed. He felt his cheeks heat for no reason. He sent them the picture he’d taken of Ash the day before, drinking in the soft blue and pink of his sweater and lips, the bright yellow of the ranunculus. The stormy blue-gray of his eyes.
I’M SORRY WHAT came Germaine’s instant reply.
Charlotte wrote, Oh, Truman.
So he’s handsome! It’s not like I’m in love with every handsome person in the world! He’s not just his looks. He’s also really sweet and kind and generous and he takes care of his mom and he makes beautiful bouquets!
Take that, Truman thought.
Oh, Truman. This time it was Germaine who wrote that.
GRUMBLE GRUMBLE GRUMBLE, Truman wrote once more.
He thought about how he’d gone to the Queen Bee that morning to avoid seeming overeager to get to Thorn. How the press of Ash’s thigh against his as they sat on the flat-topped rock at the beach had made him want to lean into Ash. How he’d looked at the pictures he’d taken of him a dozen times last night. He’d told himself he was picking the best one for the website, but…
Oh no. Oh no no no. Oh fuck, Truman wrote.
Oh, shit, it’s bad. T swore.
Truman, I would like to remind you that you’re there for A MONTH, Charlotte wrote.
How can I have a crush on someone—I got my heart stomped on literally fourteen seconds ago???
I don’t think there’s a timeline on it, boo.
Probably getting your heart crushed just makes you *more* likely to crush on someone, Charlotte mused. Because you’re looking for an object onto which you can project your truncated feelings.
HOW DO I MAKE IT GO AWAY??!!
Just stop seeing him, wrote Charlotte.
Aw, why do you want it to go away?
Because we have JUST established that I am a disaster romantic!!! Nothing good will come of this! My heart is already smashed. What if Ash, like, vaporizes it??
Well, it wouldn’t be Ash that did anything, it would be your own thoughts and feelings about the situation, Charlotte corrected.
Truman pictured Ash holding the šilpka that Clarion used in the Dead of Zagørjič. It emanated pulses of magic that turned an enemy’s mind inside out.
He shuddered and hugged himself. But then he imagined spending the next three and a half weeks on Owl Island, knowing Ash was near and not seeing him. Walking past Thorn to get groceries and avoiding him. He hated that thought even more than he hated the thought of getting his heart vaporized.
Shit, I do like him, Truman wrote.
You poor soul.
Eeeee!!! Germaine sent a screen of heart eye emojis.