Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
I mean, right? Obviously. I need to be realistic. I’ve spent far too long only half present in my life, the rest of the time spent lost in some fantasy land. No wonder I’ve been so unhappy and dissatisfied. I’m always waiting for the big reveal, the moment when my suspicions of Ren’s presence are confirmed.
When my painful, embarrassing need to be loved by him is fulfilled.
It’s never going to happen. I realized that, and I allowed some random dude to finger me, to touch me.
Who wouldn’t cry?
So get off your ass and do what you’ve been avoiding.
Enough turning my back on what I know I need to do. Isn’t it always better to tear the Band-Aid off all at once, anyway? I force myself to stand and march out of the bedroom even though my legs are trembling. I’d rather scrub the toilet with my toothbrush than drop the bomb I’m holding. But here goes nothing.
“Hey,” I say, entering the living room.
It looks so sad and empty now, the walls bare, boxes lined up along the wall beside the front door. Strange how my voice sounds different with fewer items scattered around to absorb it.
“Oh, good, I need your help.” She’s scratching her head, staring down at an open cardboard box. “How do you do the flap thingy? You know, where you put them just so, and it doesn’t open back up? We’re out of tape.”
“You’re hopeless,” I tease, showing her the correct order to close the flaps, tucking the fourth flap under the first one I folded over so all four stay in place.
“I should have taken a video.” She sighs, shrugging. “But thanks.”
With as good a segue as any, I say, “So listen. There’s something I want to talk to you about.” I can barely get it out; every word is like pulling teeth.
“Finally.”
Not the reaction I was expecting. Nor was I expecting her to be standing with her hands on her hips, one of which is popped out to the side. Her body language speaks volumes. Apparently, she has something she’s been keeping in as well.
“I’ve been waiting for you to finally come around and fess up,” she explains. “It’s obvious something is on your mind.”
“It’s not easy to talk about,” I murmur, nudging the box with my toe, unable to look her in the eye.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right? We’re cousins. You don’t have to be afraid to speak your mind. I don’t care what our parents think, and I’m not a narc. If it’s a secret you need me to keep, I can keep it.”
She has no idea the secrets that I’m keeping.
I incline my head in the direction of the couch. “Let’s sit and talk.”
She doesn’t follow me, not moving a muscle except to turn in my direction and follow my progress. “I don’t like this. I’ve got a bad feeling.” Her lips turn into a frown.
“I’m not dying or anything.” Though I have felt that way. “But it’s something you’re probably not going to like.”
Her expression becomes pained. “Have you secretly hated living with me all this time?”
“God, no!” Though I’m glad she got that idea out of the way. If she was already worrying about it, her brain would probably go straight there once I get this weight off my chest.
She sinks to the couch with a sigh. “Okay, so long as it’s not that. Sometimes when people are roommates, things change between them. I didn’t want that to be the issue for us.”
I want to tell her if things change, it’ll be because of me and not her, but I don’t. That’ll open another can of worms I’m not ready to deal with.
“No, that’s not even close to what this is about. I’ve loved being your roommate. Honestly...” I take a breath, gathering myself for what I’m about to say. “You’re probably the only
thing I’ve really liked about the past year.” “What?”
“I mean, I’m sure it’s been easy to tell how unhappy I’ve been. I know you’ve seen it.” I shrug my shoulders. “I… I just don’t feel like I belong here.”
It’s not a lie. I haven’t felt like I’ve belonged for a while.
“To be fair, though, you haven’t given yourself much of a chance. I’ve practically had to drag you out of the apartment kicking and screaming to do anything besides go to class. We went to, what, five or six parties together?” She counts them out on her fingers. “It couldn’t have been because of the guards either. You sneak past them easily when you feel like it.”
“I know, and I’m sorry if you felt like you had to babysit me or whatever you want to call it. You deserve to have fun without worrying about me. But it’s not just social stuff. It’s everything. I don’t like the classes. I don’t like the distance from home. I don’t like any of it, and I don’t think MIT is for me in general.”