Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
It was something I couldn’t shake from my head throughout the rest of my day. I’d seen such a different side of him than what it seemed so many others had. Even during our brief conversation in the car, it was apparent there was this friendly kid beneath that serious expression he wore most of the time around school.
That day, when he entered my classroom for fourth period, he offered a friendly smile. Something I wasn’t even sure other kids would have read as that, but I knew, coming from him, it was a good sign.
As he sat in his seat, third row back, close to the window, I kept thinking about all those mysteries surrounding him.
His insistence with the cop about not calling his parents.
The violent streak I’d seen for myself.
His peculiar Paradise Lost responses about God’s abandonment of Adam and Eve.
A possible baby on the way with one of his peers.
Who are you, Kyle Forsythe?
This wasn’t a bad guy.
Guarded, yes. Abrasive, definitely. Deficient in understanding certain social cues? Apparently.
But it wasn’t mischief I read in his intense expression before scanning the class. It was a guy who feared the world, who felt he had to pummel a guy to stay alive.
Our gazes met once more, surprising me.
I wondered what he would think of his weird British Lit teacher looking at him, but a sliver of a smile slid across his face. Just as quickly, he looked out the window, as though he feared me looking into those eyes for too long.
As though, if I did, I might see too much.
9
Kyle
I collapsed onto the sofa, the sound of reporters discussing the latest on the upcoming elections droning on in the background. Tex’s car had been in the driveway when I got back from making deliveries, so I figured he was around somewhere. Maybe taking a nap upstairs, which was what I was about to do on that sofa.
I searched for the remote for a few moments until I gave up my quest, surrendering to my weariness. I was done for the night.
A sound caught my attention, and I rolled my head to the side.
The creak of Tex’s familiar footsteps approached, his Hello Kitty pajama bottoms coming into view—those pajamas that had the power to make me smile under pretty much any circumstance.
“I can tell you’re riveted by the polls,” he said, heading to the recliner.
“Are they still talking about that?”
“What do you mean still talking about? You haven’t been home but five minutes.” He settled into the seat, taking a deep breath, like he was happy to get off his feet.
“Has it only been five minutes? Don’t know why I’m so damn tired tonight.”
“How many deliveries did you have?”
“Seven. One was for this asshole girl from school who tried to chat me up.”
“Oh, the horror of having those Harris looks.”
I couldn’t help scoffing at how he attributed my looks to his and Mom’s side. “Whatever. We know I got my dad’s face,” I said, something I’d heard often enough growing up.
“But your mom’s eyes, and don’t you ever forget it.”
I didn’t know if that was such a great thing. The face was already enough to haunt me.
He dug into the cushions around him, retrieving the remote I hadn’t been able to find. “Wanna watch some Top Chef?”
“You don’t want to watch that other series we were working our way through? What was it? Umbrella Academy?”
“Ah, nah. I was gonna call it an early night.”
“Now what does a retired guy have to be so tired about? I’m the one who’s been shopping my ass off all night.”
“You try teaching swimming to a bunch of seventysomethings who don’t give a flying fuck, and then we’ll talk.”
Tex volunteered at the senior center, taking on odd jobs here and there. He’d retired the year before, with a nice pension from his time at the VA office. But Tex had always preferred keeping busy, so the sedentary life hadn’t lasted long before he was off on his mini projects.
“Maybe I can swing by the store tomorrow, stock up on apple crullers and brownies so we can binge some of those episodes, or maybe find a couple of shit horror films?”
“Can’t,” Tex said.
“I thought you had a rule about not working at the center on weekends.”
“Not at the center.” He wore the mischievous expression he sometimes did before sneaking a piece of pie or ice cream from the freezer. “What? You don’t think I just sit around here, do you? I have a date.”
“A date? When did this come up?”
“It’s not a big deal. I made it this afternoon.”
“Not a big deal? It’s a very big deal. Where did you meet this person? At the senior center?”
“No, no. It’s nothing.”
“This isn’t nothing. Come on. Tell me where you met? SCRUFF, Grindr?”
He scoffed. “Certainly not looking for anyone on any of those apps. I was on Tinder.”