XOXO Read Online Christina Lee

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
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My stomach lurched. Lark always thought it was cool that the street names were the same as the ones in Atlantic City, but we always folded early because the game ran too long.

“Yeah, my parents are a bit anxious to get me home.”

“Makes sense.” We stood there awkwardly until he blurted, “I hope you make it.”

“I hope you do too.”

The idea that one of us might not sat heavy in my gut.

“Okay, well…bye.” I lurched forward to draw him into a loose hug. His arms gripped my waist tightly, making my skin tingle. His scent was a mix of watermelon and hospital antiseptic, but I didn’t hold it against him. I probably smelled the same, minus the candy. But it would always remind me of him.

“I’ll miss you,” he said as he drew back. “Wish we lived closer.”

But we were on opposite sides of town.

“I won’t forget you. How could I with a crazy name like Lark Levitt?”

He’d told me his mom was fond of nature and especially birds, which made a ton of sense. She even wore a birdcage necklace. Still, a funny name to give your kid. But also cool too. My parents would’ve only considered giving me some family or important-sounding name.

“You neither, Henry Albrecht. The third.”

I rolled my eyes. “Henners, remember?” It was my nickname at school and on the football field.

Lark smiled. “I remember.”

“Okay, well…” I awkwardly inched toward the door.

“Oh, one more thing.” Lark strode to the drawer, opened one of his notebooks, and retrieved an envelope. “You can read it later.”

Just as he passed it to me, I felt his warm lips against my cheek, and my whole body buzzed to life. I gasped as if I had been shocked—and maybe I had. He stepped back warily and glanced out the window. Not wanting him to think he’d done something wrong, I leaned forward to swipe my mouth against his cheek too. Except he turned his head right then and I kissed the corner of his lips instead.

“Sor…sorry about that.”

His face flushed. “I didn’t mind it.”

It felt like pins and needles were pricking me. And not the kind from the chemo.

It was hard to leave that room, but I forced my feet to move, forced myself not to look back.

There was a lump in my throat the whole way home, like I was leaving him to die there. Okay, that was being dramatic. But I felt so closely tied to him through our shared experience that it was hard to imagine parting ways. I had never felt that connected to another human being before, not even my parents.

I carefully opened the envelope in the back seat, hoping my parents didn’t hear the rustle of paper. A watermelon Jolly Rancher fell to my lap, and I smiled.

I pulled out the folded note and read it.

Henners,

You mean a lot to me.

I’ll never forget you.

It’s been really hard, but you made everything better.

I’ll be rooting for you. Good luck.

XOXO,

Lark

I sucked in a sharp breath at the XOXO written there. That meant like, hugs and kisses, right? I could still feel my lips tingling from that accidental kiss.

Was it accidental?

My heart clenched, aching the entire way home.

“You mean a lot to me.”

I resumed my life almost immediately—my parents made sure of that—and soon enough the hospital stay became a blur. Like looking out of a back window as you drove away from a lengthy trip abroad. Not that a hospital room was a vacation, but Lark had helped alleviate some of the stress.

We never saw each other again. But I would never forget him either.

1

LARK

With my nose pressed against the glass, I watched the sparrows in one of the many feeders Mom had hung outside. She was obsessed with birds, and though our two-bedroom trailer wasn’t really conducive to her dream of looking out a bay kitchen window to the trees in her backyard, we made do. Since our trailer park was near some woods that led to a man-made lake, plenty of birds came to visit.

My heart was throbbing this morning as nerves set up camp in my stomach.

I curled my hands into fists, feeling the blunt edges of the Band-Aids on my fingers, two on each side.

I won’t chew my cuticles raw, I’d told myself last night. Then promptly failed.

My nervous habits had taken a turn for the worse since my hospital stay as a kid, despite my making it through. But as the saying goes, habits were hard to break. The pediatrician said my anxious condition was likely something called dermatillomania, and he gave me pamphlets on it, which I ignored. No way would we be able to afford more doctors or therapy. Besides, I’d come up with my own solutions that worked—sometimes. But certainly not the night before a major turning point in my life.


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