Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Shit. Maybe analyzing statistics was better than entertaining these thoughts. Except… I wasn’t as resistant to them as I had been before. Yes, Mia was younger than me, but only by three years.
She was twenty, and like most former foster children, had had to grow up far too soon. She wasn't a kid who didn't know her own mind. Mia was a woman, and I couldn't stop thinking about her.
And god help me, I didn’t want to.
I’d considered asking her out, but something stopped me. I was the residential advisor, and I cared about everyone who lived here. This was a place where Mia should feel welcome and safe. But… it honestly had felt like she’d enjoyed my company during the scavenger hunt, or at least by the second half of it. And dancing with her in my arms… that wasn’t something I could just forget.
So maybe I'd see what she was doing tomorrow night. Maybe she could come with me to Paul's house. It would probably take two of us to wrangle a high-spirited toddler into his crib. After that, we could study. And I could see if her newfound comfort level with me would continue.
Somehow, going on the scavenger hunt together had changed things. She certainly hadn't seemed all that nervous when I held her in my arms and waltzed her around the room.
If the babysitting went well, then maybe I'd ask her out on a real date. We still had that gift certificate to the Italian place. That would be the perfect excuse.
Forzano’s was a nice place. I’d only been there once. I cast my mind back, trying to recall what I’d ordered, but a different memory threatened to break through. It had happened a couple of times recently. I didn’t know what it was from, but it was always the same. A feeling of happiness. Of surrendering all responsibilities and only doing what I wanted to do. It was always accompanied by a sweet scent. Something that I was certain I’d recently encountered.
It made no sense. My brain was probably fried from all of the statistical analysis.
Someone knocked on my door. “Come in.”
My jaw nearly dropped when the door opened, and Cody stepped into my room. Had he ever been in here? I was pretty sure he hadn’t in the fourteen months we’d shared this house.
“What's up?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Can we… talk?”
Normally, getting Cody to talk was an exercise in frustration. I couldn’t quite imagine what had made him seek out a conversation with me. “Sure. You want to go out in the dining room?”
“No.”
He closed the door behind him.
“Is everything okay? Are you sick?”
He shook his head. “No, not sick. And everything's not okay.”
“What's up?”
I pulled out the desk chair for him and then I sat on the edge of my bed. He sat down and slouched, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. But even though he was leaning back in the chair, he looked tense.
“Take your time, man. You can tell me anything.”
“I messed up,” he finally said.
“Can you tell me about it?”
“I hurt Mia.”
That was the last thing I expected him to say. And I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by ‘hurt.’ I sat up straighter, leaning in. Trying not to look as alarmed as I felt. “She’s hurt? Is she okay? Where is she?”
“Not like that.”
He held up a hand when I started to jump up, and I waited, somewhat impatiently, for him to find the words. “I said something. The wrong thing. And it hurt her.” He paused, as if trying to figure out whether he had to provide any other relevant info. “The other night.”
For Cody, that counted as a big speech. I tried to figure out what night he was talking about, and then I remembered they’d gone to watch that television show, that extra credit thing for their chemistry class.
Though I had three years' experience helping my roommates through various concerns, I didn’t quite know what approach to take with Cody. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Okay. Then why was he here? But I couldn't ask it like that. “Have you... I assume this happened at the movie night, right?”
He nodded.
“Have you talked to her since then?”
“No.”
Silence grew, but I waited again. With Cody, you had to give him time to phrase his thoughts.
“Talking was the problem in the first place.”
I couldn't argue with that. For some reason, words just never came easily to him, but holy crap, he could express himself through music like no one else I'd ever known.
“I... I didn't mean to say… what I said.”
“Do you think she knows that?” I asked carefully.
“No.”
“Can you tell her that?”
“No.”
He wasn't leaving me with a lot of options as to what to advise. He was gazing off to my right. Not focused on anything, but again I got the sense this was a time to wait him out.