Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 141810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 709(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 709(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Scott blinked. “You mean… like your official roommate?”
Max shrugged a second time. “Yeah. Why not. I can clear out that other bedroom.”
Scott’s brows suddenly dipped. “I don’t understand. Why would you want that?”
“’Cause I like you, Scott. You’re a good fucking kid. You’ve kept down a job. You’re trying to stay sober. I guess I just wanna see you succeed.”
Scott stared at him for a minute, then kind of sort of smiled. “Wow. I can’t believe this. You’d really let me live with you?”
“Absolutely.” Max nodded. “Under one condition.”
Scott stilled. “One condition?”
Max sat back and smirked. “Oh, yeah. And boy is it a doozy.”
Scott swallowed. Shifted uneasily.
Max chuckled. “Relax. I just want you to go back to school.”
Scott froze. Then balked. “What? But why?”
“Because your drop-out ass needs to get a GED, so your GED ass can go to fucking college.”
Scott blinked, blinked again, his brows back to scrunching. “You want me to go to college?”
“I want you to have a life.” Max regarded him thoughtfully. “You lost it somewhere. I just want to help you get it back.”
Scott sighed and looked down. Then he nodded in agreement. “Okay. I’ll try. To get that GED, I mean. Can’t make any promises on the life part.”
Max chuckled. “What. You saying you don’t want it back?”
Scott lifted his eyes and slowly shook his head. “Nope. I lost it on purpose.”
SEVEN
Max shoved through the door late afternoon and dropped his books on the small foyer table. This semester at Mason was a grueling one, his teachers dishing out the assignments like candy on Halloween. Or maybe it just felt that way since he was taking so many classes. Thing was, he didn’t want to be in college forever. He wanted to get going with his life. But he’d decided a while back to not only major in fine arts, but minor in a couple of things, too. Teaching, because one day he’d like to be a sculpting instructor—a passion he never even knew he had until he’d taken a class at VCU—and also Celtic Languages and Literature. The latter was a partial tribute to his dad, but Max had always wanted to know more about his heritage. When he was younger, his mom would share little things here and there, but she was by no means an authority on the culture. His dad told him things, too, before he died, but Max was so young it was hard to remember.
So, yeah. On top of his Fine Arts courses, Max was burning the candle at both ends with his other degrees. Which made for long days at school and long evenings doing homework. A schedule that really cut into his nighttime job. Aka his domming, aka his only source of income. His mom certainly wasn’t raking in the cash, still recuperating from her wicked car crash. Hell, she wasn’t even bringing in workers’ comp since the accident didn’t happen at the hospital. Just disability benefits, and they weren’t shit. Which meant Max was on his own for pretty much everything. Not that he hadn’t been raised with that mindset anyway. His parents, mostly his mom, had drummed that into him early. To work hard for the things he wanted. To only buy stuff he could pay for up front. No maxing out credit cards. No living in debt. As least in every sense humanly possible.
Sighing, he glanced around, looking for Scott. Typically, he was home from his day shift at the gym and already parked at the computer in their apartment’s dining room-slash-makeshift office. He’d been busting his ass for the last couple months, and finally got his online GED. It hadn’t been too daunting since he’d only dropped out mid-senior year in high school. But still. He’d studied hard for that test, and passed it with flying colors. Because not only was Scott a good kid, but a smart kid as well. With a wicked streak of determination running through his eighteen-year-old veins.
Max had been prouder than fuck of him, too. Remembered like yesterday, that night a few weeks back when Scott came to him, beaming, with his certificate. Max had hugged him super hard, cancelled all his evening appointments, and celebrated with Scott for the rest of the night. But what made Max even prouder than the sight of Scott’s diploma, was the college schedule Scott showed him soon after. They were classes at a community college, but the point was, Scott was still going strong. Still had his sights set. Was still working toward the future.
He was trying. And he was doing a damn good job. Sure, he had setbacks. Still struggled with drugs. Still hooked up way too often with dickheads. But at least he wasn’t looking at his feet all the time. Granted, his eyes weren’t yet slanted toward the sky, but at least they were mostly aimed forward.