Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“Lazarus,” she says warmly, “come in. So good to see you. Have you gotten taller?”
She says this each time. Rosalie is a middle-aged Thai lady who has been employed by Daryl for as long as I can remember. In a stark, white-walled house where everything is put in its place, cold and sterile, Rosalie is the only source of life. Well, her and Noah.
“I assure you I have not gotten taller,” I tell her, giving her a quick hug. “I’m actually here for Noah.”
She nods. “Miss Sarah told me already. She and Mr. Daryl are out at brunch with friends. Noah is just in his room.”
“How is he?” I ask her, lowering my voice. “Just between you and me, because I don’t think my mother has a good, shall we say, handle on the situation.”
She nods, her expression turning grim. “He’s a good boy. He’s just figuring himself out. Back at home, boys are allowed to be who they want, masculine, feminine, it doesn’t matter. In this city, too, people are open-minded. But his parents…”
She trails off. She’ll never speak ill of her employers, not even around me, but I know how she feels about them.
“I understand,” I tell her. “I’ll probably take him out to see a movie or something.”
“You’re a good soul,” she tells me, patting me on the arm before she hurries off and is swallowed up by the house.
I take in a deep breath and climb the winding staircase to the second floor, heading down the hall past my old bedroom, Jane’s old bedroom, until I come to Noah’s.
“Noah, it’s Laz,” I say, rapping on his door. I wait a few moments, listening. I don’t want to walk in uninvited in case he’s doing what I was doing all day when I was fourteen, jerking it until my hand was sore.
“Noah,” I say again, knocking louder.
Finally, I hear some shuffling and the door opens.
Noah stares up at me with a sullen expression. “What?”
“What?” I repeat. “No, hey buddy it’s good to see you?”
“Why are you here? You’re here cuz Sarah told you to be here, right?”
I clear my throat. “Mum told me I should probably come by but I’m not here because of her, alright?”
He rolls his eyes and tries to shut the door. I shove my shoulder between and pry it open.
“Come on,” I tell him. “I’ll take you to the movies, whatever you want to see. My treat.”
“I have money,” he says. “And I can go to the movies by myself. You don’t see anyone stopping me.”
“You really don’t want to go?” I ask, watching him closely. Fuck, I can’t tell what this boy is thinking. “Movies, lunch, whatever you want. We can drive to the bloody beach, I don’t care.”
“Not interested.”
Now I’m the one rolling my eyes. Been in this house ten minutes and I’m already reverting. “Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll leave you alone. I just thought you needed a friend, someone to talk to. I’ll be going.”
I’m not faking it either. I am leaving. I love Noah but our relationship goes two ways. Teenager or not, I can’t always be chasing him, trying to be the big brother he never had. With Jane out on the east coast now, I feel he needs me now more than ever but maybe he doesn’t.
I go down the hall, down the stairs, as far as the car, about to check my phone to see if Marina had texted back yet when I hear him yell, “Laz!”
I look back at the door. “Change your mind?”
“Can we go to Venice?”
“Sure,” I tell him. Maybe we’ll see Scooby on his penny farthing while we’re down there.
“Great, I’ll be right back,” he says and then disappears into the house.
He’s gone for long enough that I take out my phone and see that Marina responded. I breathe out a sigh of relief.
I’m good. Just finished teaching a class I totally forgot about until this morning.
“What are you smiling at, your girlfriend?” Noah teases me as he comes around to the passenger side. I slip the phone in my pocket and get inside.
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I tell him, putting on my seatbelt.
“Yeah right,” he says, adjusting his bright purple backpack adorned with glittering stars between his legs.
“New backpack?”
He looks down at it and his features harden, making him look far older than fourteen. As different as Noah and Daryl are, they do look alike. Both are on the short side with angular features, but Noah is slim and compact. Noah’s hair has been a multitude of styles and colors, now it’s long in the front, buzz-cut in the back, like a reverse mullet, and neon blue.
“I like it,” I say quickly. “Though I thought maybe you’d want to match your backpack to your hair.”
He manages a quiet laugh. “Yeah. I was thinking that but then I’d have to buy a new backpack every week and I know Dad’s allowance won’t stretch that far. Especially over something like this.”