Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
The next day, my dad told me he had made an appointment with a gynecologist for me to get a general check up done. That was all the proof I needed. My dad was going to sell my virginity to the highest bidder in some sex club.
My depression started after my mother’s death, but ever since that night, it has gotten so much worse. Before, I thought at least I have one parent left but that day I became an orphan. At least in my mind.
I wasn’t entirely honest with Dad, but that’s nothing new. I’ve been keeping secrets from him ever since that night. Doing everything I can to hold onto a little bit of control over my life. It’s kind of pitiful, and I know it, these little acts of defiance that don’t really make that much of a difference. If I have secrets, it means I have something of my own.
I’m not only going to Briggs’s and Wren’s house for dinner. It’s more like a party—a small one, according to Wren. “I’m still kind of getting the hang of living in this big house,” she told me when she asked me to come over. “But I want Briggs to feel like his life doesn’t have to change just because I’m there.”
I don’t quite understand why she’s with him after everything he did to her. That’s what brought us together in the first place. I can still smell the ghost of the paint remover we used to clean up the graffiti on her car, and the memory of her fear is as sharp and clear as if I was the one going through all of that insanity myself.
Yet she seems happy. I guess I don’t have to understand. All I have to do is be a supportive friend, hence the reason I’m getting behind the wheel and driving over to the house. I only hope she meant it when she said the party would be small. I’m not really in the mood to be around a lot of people and play the game of pretending to be happy. It’s the game I’ve played for so long, you’d think it would be second nature by now. More than anything, I’m exhausted.
But I’m doing it for Wren, who is the one real friend I have. She looked so eager for me to say yes when she invited me. Only a heartless bitch could’ve said no. No matter how much I kind of wanted to. Nobody wants to be in the position of pretending to know less than they do about their friend’s boyfriend.
It’s a relief when I arrive to find only a handful of cars parked out front. I can handle this number of people. Maybe I’ll be able to find a quiet corner somewhere where Wren and I can sit together. I don’t know why I feel so anxious. Normally, I would be glad for the excuse to go to a party. Something has changed in me. What little life was left in my soul has withered away until it’s crumpled into dust.
Pull it together. After parking, I check out my reflection in the rearview mirror and adjust my hair a little, brushing the curls over my shoulders and lifting my chin. It’s almost too easy to pull up a natural-looking smile. All I have to do now is keep it in place.
As soon as I’m out of the car, I can tell the party is taking place behind the house. There’s laughter back there, splashing, and music playing. Here we go. Time to pretend I completely agree with my friend’s choice in men. Not like I’ve always made the best choices, anyway, so I’m not in any position to judge.
I wonder what it’s like, living the way these people do. We coexist every day at school, sitting in classes together, passing in the halls and on the quad. Yet I am in no way part of their world. We are not the same. I always end up feeling like I’m studying some alien species whenever I observe them floating through life, seemingly carefree. Enjoying themselves, enjoying school, making plans and genuinely looking forward to them. All I can ever do is pretend. Even when I first met Wren, I pretended to be a normal person. Happy and carefree. If anything, taking care of her was an excuse not to focus on myself.
“Maya!” I hear her sunshiny chirp before I see her weaving her way around a couple of clusters of people standing near the pool. She skips my way with her arms outstretched, smiling from ear to ear like I’m just the person she wanted to see. “There you are! I’ve been waiting for you.”
It would be so nice if I could experience the sort of uncomplicated happiness she clearly feels right now. She does not have a single fake bone in her body—I’ve never known anybody more sincere, straight to the point, honest. I know she’s not pretending to be happier than she is. It’s sort of humbling and definitely overwhelming, and it makes me want to tell her to find somebody worthy of her kindness. I’m certainly not.