Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Hoping my cousin and her man are still asleep in their bed with no way of seeing me, I put on my shoes and move down the porch to the sidewalk. I hurry to the end of the block and send for an Uber to pick me up. Wrapping my arms around myself, I sigh. I look ridiculous waiting in the chilly morning air, wearing my makeup, dress, and heels from last night. My only saving grace is that it’s early and no one seems to be awake yet.
I watch the street for the Nissan that’s supposed to pick me up, and frown when it turns the corner with rap music blaring from the interior. When the car stops at the edge of the sidewalk before me, I look through the passenger window at the white kid wearing a backward baseball cap. He looks no older than sixteen, and I wonder if he should even be behind the wheel.
The window goes down but the music doesn’t. It just gets louder as it escapes the confines of the car. “December?”
“Yes.”
“I’m your ride,” he says before rolling up the window without another word.
I check the app on my phone to confirm he is in fact my ride, then open the back door and get in.
“Yo,” he greets me over his shoulder, smiling as I put on my seat belt. “Good night?”
“Yeah.” I drop my eyes to my phone and ignore the missed calls and texts from April, scanning Instagram so I won’t be forced into an awkward conversation. Not that the kid could hear me over the music, even if I wanted to talk. Halfway to my apartment, the battery dies on my phone, but I still keep my eyes on the black screen until I’m home.
Once I’m inside my apartment, I go right to the kitchen and set out food for Melbourne, my invisible cat. He’s not really invisible, but he might as well be. I never see him except when he’s in need of food or attention—the latter very rare.
After I’m done, I walk to my bedroom and strip out of my dress. I brush my teeth as the shower warms up, then step in and let the hot water run over me. I try not to think about Gareth, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s realized I’m gone, and then I think about what his reaction might have been when he woke up alone.
Maybe he didn’t care that a woman snuck out on him. But in my heart, I want to believe he did.
Once I’ve washed my hair, conditioned it, and have scrubbed myself from head to toe, I get out and dry off. I wrap myself in my robe then go to the kitchen and make myself a single cup of coffee and some toast. I sit on one of the two barstools at the makeshift island in my kitchen and eat in silence before I go back to my room and put on my favorite sweats and hoodie.
Relaxing on my couch a couple of hours later with a new book, a bag of Cheetos, and a Diet Coke, I groan when my cell phone rings from my bedroom where I plugged it in to charge. I reluctantly get up to answer it then debate taking the call when I see it’s April. I must think too long, because the ringing ends, and a notification for a missed call lights up the screen, right before the ringing starts back up again.
Knowing she won’t give up, I slide my finger across the screen, and with a sigh, I put the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
“Hey? Seriously?” she snaps. “Did you not see I’ve been calling you since last night, after you disappeared? I swear if Uncle Trevor hadn’t told me that you caught a ride home, I was going to call the cops and organize a search party.”
Thank goodness I had the sense last night to tell my uncle when I was grabbing my purse that I was catching a ride home and to let everyone know I was okay.
“Sorry, I was tired. All I was thinking about was going to bed and my cell died. I didn’t charge it until after I got up.” I head back toward the couch and take a seat. “Did you have fun?” I want to… no, need to change the subject.
She snorts. “Of course I did. Now, answer your door. I’m outside.”
“You’re here?” I look toward the door like I can see through it.
“Yeah, now let me in. My hands are full.”
I get up, and as soon as I unlock the locks and turn the handle, she pushes her way in. I accept the cup of iced coffee she thrusts at me as she walks by, then shut the door. “It’s always too damn quiet in here,” she informs me as she plops down on my couch, looking around.