Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
And I really want to send Jake a selfie before we leave. I like how my face looks in this lighting.
But my fucking hair.
I spot the plain dark-gray hoodie Dean keeps here for when the shop gets cold.
It’s hanging on one of the hooks by the door, and I’m already tugging it on when I ask him if I can borrow it for the night.
“You’re the best,” I say, walking over to the mirror again.
“I didn’t say anything yet.”
“But you’ll let me borrow it, right?”
“Sure, Felix. What’s mine is yours after all.”
I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not, but I know Dean always wants what’s best for me and that would obviously include allowing me to wear something of his so I can feel good about myself, so I choose to believe he’s being sincere.
I pull the hood up around my face so the only part of my hair that’s visible anymore is the very front that falls over my eyebrows. It doesn’t look bad now that the rest of it is covered, so I don’t mess with it too much.
“Okay,” I say to myself, getting my phone ready by pulling up the camera mode.
Jake wanted a selfie this morning. No, he didn’t actually say those words, but I really think he wishes I would’ve sent one.
I think (maybe, hopefully) he likes them.
And earlier when we were texting, I just wasn’t feeling it.
I sat in my car after eating breakfast with Dean’s family, and I was straight up pouting.
I told Jake I was pissed about the “no dating” rule, but I think I was more sad than anything. And who wants to take a selfie when they’re sad? Who actually feels good about themselves when they feel like crying?
I thought about it a lot today.
I focused on my work and knocked out four kickass tattoos, but I still thought about it.
And I came to the decision that I’m not going to pout ever again, because that look does absolutely nothing for me.
Plus, what’s the point? There’s nothing I can do to change our situation.
I am in control of how I let things affect me. I learned that in therapy.
And I’m choosing to not let this keep me down. Because no matter how shitty and unfair this seems, there’s still one very important truth.
Jake wants me too.
And I’m really happy knowing that.
So happy that I decide to smile a little in this selfie.
I position the camera in front of my face so Jake can tell I’m smiling, although he won’t be able to see most of it. Only the corner of my mouth and my lifted cheek that dimples slightly. He can see my eyes too, and I think it’s obvious I’m happy if he only looks at those.
But I really hope he doesn’t.
I look into the mirror and snap the photo, and then I send it to him with a message.
see u soon :)
I also send it to Dean because I know he hates selfies and texting, and I think it’ll be funny when he looks at it later.
Dean turns the machine off and taps the guy on the arm so he removes his headphones, saying, “All right, man. We’re done,” when the guy peers back at him. “Go check it out.”
I move out of the way and get over next to Dean. And I watch his face as the guy rambles on about how fucking killer the tattoo is. “Man, you crushed it. I’m definitely coming back here for more.” He’s ecstatic, and Dean looks so damn proud of himself.
I knock my elbow against his. “You’re so cool.”
Dean looks down at me out of the corner of his eye, and I don’t miss the way his mouth twitches.
I hope I can be as good as him some day.
The guy pays and leaves, and I help Dean clean up his station since I’ve already cleaned up mine.
He’s going to the meeting tonight too, and I’m excited for him and Jake to finally meet.
“You’ll like him,” I say as I wipe down the chair. “I know you will.”
“Quit making it sound like I’m about to meet your boyfriend.”
“That’s not at all what I’m doing.”
Okay. Maybe it is. A little.
I ball up the cleansing wipes and toss them into the trash. “I’d say the same thing to him about you, and you aren’t my boyfriend. Even though we’d be so cute together.”
“Stop.”
“I’d be into the age difference. Just saying.”
“Felix.”
“Okay. Okay.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. Jake hasn’t responded yet.
It’s been twenty minutes since I sent him that selfie.
u ok
“Ready?” Dean asks as he flips off the lights.
“Huh?” I look up. He’s already standing by the door. “Oh. Yeah, let’s go.”
I keep my phone out and follow him outside.
I’m sitting next to Dean in the back row, and the donut in my lap hasn’t been touched yet because the meeting started five minutes ago, and Jake still isn’t here.