Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116372 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116372 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“Thanks for driving me home.” I need him to get out of here so I can be alone with my embarrassment.
The front door swings open, and the never-ending nightmare that is this day smacks me in the face like a long-expired sausage. Kodiak stands in the doorway wearing only a pair of swim shorts, wet hair sticking out all over the place, water dripping on the damn floor. But God, is he ever glorious. Muscle layered over muscle, thick biceps flexing as he holds the doorjamb, a mischievous grin popping the dimple in his left cheek.
My heart seizes and gallops. I miss this version of him: the one that smiles and doesn’t hate me.
He ruins everything a moment later by bellowing, “Who’s fucking in the driveway?”
His gaze moves to Dylan, who looks as horrified as I feel, but as it shifts to me, his smile drops and my stomach tightens.
“You should really go,” I tell Dylan.
“I’ll see you around.” He disappears into his car and barely has the door closed before he’s backing out of the driveway and screeching down the street.
I adjust my backpack on my shoulder and head for the house, steeling my spine and my nerves because Kodiak is still standing in the middle of the doorway, his face a mask of indifference. I try to brush by him, but he stays where he is, making it impossible.
I sigh, exhausted beyond belief. I just want to go upstairs and have a good, cathartic cry. I try to mirror his apathy. “Can you move so I can get into my house?”
His brow furrows as his eyes move over my face. He lifts his hand, like maybe he’s thinking about touching me. There’s no way I can handle that. I jerk back and swat his hand away. “What are you doing?”
“Your lip is bleeding.”
“Don’t act like you actually give a shit, Kodiak.”
“Tell me what happened.” His voice is low and soft, and for whatever reason, that makes me even angrier, so I lash out, wanting to wound him the way he keeps wounding me.
“You, Kodiak. You happened, and you ruined my goddamn life. Now get the hell out of my way.” I elbow past him, almost tripping over several sets of running shoes.
I head straight for my bedroom and lock the door behind me. I slide down the wall until my butt hits the floor and close my eyes, taking deep breaths.
I imagined the concern in his voice.
I imagined the pain that sat heavy behind his eyes.
We see what we want to, not the truth, especially when it hurts.
12
DEPENDENCY IS A DANGEROUS ADDICTION
Lavender
Age 10
ILOVE AND hate Halloween. Hate is a strong word, and Mom always tells me not to use it, but I feel strongly about Halloween. I love the dressing-up part, and Mom always makes me a costume. We sit and flip through picture books and look at pretty princesses and fairies and decide which one I’m going to be.
I like that part a lot.
My costumes are always bright and fun, so I stand out. I like clothes that make it easy to pick me out in a crowd, even though I don’t like crowds and try to avoid them.
But I don’t like that some kids dress up like monsters and try to scare one another. I’m always afraid they’re going to try to scare me too, and then I might cry in front of other people. This makes my worry monster grow inside me like ivy, choking out all the good feelings.
This Halloween, I’m dressed like the princess from Brave. Mom did my makeup and everything. Robbie’s in high school now, so Mom says this is his last year trick-or-treating. He still dresses up though, and he’s going as a mad scientist. It’s sort of a costume and sort of not, because he loves science—only he’s not mad. Maverick is a hockey player, which isn’t much of a costume at all since that’s what he does all the time, and River is going as Batman. It means he’s wearing all black, a mask, and a cape.
Robbie and Maverick get to stay out later, because they’re older and don’t have to go to bed as early. I only like to do our street, and then I come home and give out candy with Mom while Dad follows the boys. But he’s not allowed to walk with them because they get embarrassed.
Our street is busy with kids, and a lot of the houses give out really good treats like full candy bars instead of the mini ones. Queenie, who lives on the same block, gives me a special present to go with my favorite chips. It’s a felt pouch sewing kit, and now all I want to do is go home and put together the cute little yeti and beaver pouches, but I don’t want to make River come in with me because he’s still having fun.