Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Dad’s already off on his usual pre-office workout. Mom is still asleep—but this is an emergency and it cannot wait! A Maddie Miller–sized emergency. Mom will understand. I shake her awake, hands on her shoulders, gently hissing her name.
“Mom!” I hiss. “Ma! Mom. Mom.”
She groans.
“Mom. Mom. Mom. Are you awake?”
Her eyes crack open. “Oh my god, Easton—what?”
“I need your car.” I waste no time blurting it out. “It’s an emergency.”
My mother pushes herself up on her elbows, trying to make sense of the situation. “An emergency?” Her voice is gravelly. “What’s going on? Is someone hurt?”
Of course she would assume something bad happened.
“No one is hurt.” I inhale a deep breath and let it out in one long, run-on sentence. “Maddie Miller texted me and needs a ride to school and since I don’t have a car I can’t drive her and if I don’t take her she’ll think I don’t like her or something.”
My verbal diarrhea is next-level.
My mother blinks, trying to process everything I just said. Trying to wake up.
“Maddie Miller?” She yawns. “Who is Maddie Miller?”
“Please, Mom. She’s a girl from school,” I explain. “Please let me borrow your car.”
She’s awake now, coming to life, switching to Mom mode by asking twenty questions. “Is that the girl you liked sophomore year? I thought she was mean to you. Why do you need my car?” She reaches for her phone to check the time. “Easton. It is barely six in the morning.”
I am well aware.
“I know, Mom, but this an emergency. I can bring it back after lunch, I swear.”
“You’re being so intense.” Her eyes slide closed. “I haven’t had coffee yet…”
Determined, I double down on my whining. “I’ll fill the tank with gas. Please, Mom.” I hover over her, sounding as desperate as I feel.
She cracks one eye open, yawning. “Wait. I thought you liked Harper.” Another long, loud yawn follows. “She’s so cute.”
“I do like Harper,” I admit quickly. That’s not the point. The point is, I’ve had a crush on Maddie Miller for years, and if I don’t take her to school today, I might never find out if there’s an actual chance for something to happen between us. This is fate handing me an opportunity, and I’m not about to let it slip away.
“Please,” I beg again, shifting my tone to something softer, more pitiful. “I’ll bring the car back in perfect shape. Full tank. Spotless. Whatever you want.”
Mom sighs, sinking deeper into her pillow, her eyes fluttering. She presses her fingers to her temples.
“You’re being ridiculous right now, Easton.”
“Mom. I’m not kidding. I’m begging, here.”
I clasp my hands together in prayer, leaning closer. She doesn’t open her eyes this time, but there’s a flicker of a tired smile on her lips. A good sign, that smile—or maybe a bad one?
The suspense is killing me.
Then her eyelids flutter open, damn near giving me a stroke.
“You’ll bring the car back full tank, no scratches?” she finally says, in a daze.
“Yes!” I shout a little too loudly, vowing, “Full tank. No scratches.” I pause. “I’ll even wash it if you want.”
She sighs dramatically, waving a hand in the air. “Fine. Get out of here before I’m fully awake and change my mind.”
HELL YEAH!
“I won’t drive like an asshole, promise!”
I lean down to kiss her cheek before bolting out of her room, her muffled groan following me as I race down the hallway.
I’ve got a car. I’ve got a chance!
Maddie Miller, here I come!
I bolt back to my room, panting like I just skated thirty laps around the rink, and grab my phone. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I’m giddy to type out the following message:
Me: I can pick you up. What time?
Maddie: OMG, thank you!!! 7:00? You’re the best
Holy crap—she used a smiley face. I can’t fucking breathe.
Me: No problem. Just text me your address, and I’ll see you then!
She does, and I quickly map out my route on my phone. I have plenty of time before I need to leave, but my brain is freaking out. Shit, what am I going to wear? I mean, I should at least look decent, right? Normally I’d throw on sweats and a hoodie and call it a day—but today is definitely not that day.
I scan at my reflection in the mirror and wince. “You look like shit, bruh.”
I look like total ass.
Bags under my eyes, hair doing its own thing—a complete mess.
I rifle through my closet, hoping for a miracle. Something clean. Maybe something in the right shade of blue to match my eyes? Girls notice that kind of thing, don’t they?
I toss aside a wrinkled shirt and a sweatshirt that hasn’t seen the washing machine in weeks, muttering under my breath.
Why is this hard? I want to make an effort.
I pull on some pants and head to the bathroom. Brush my teeth, splash water on my face in an effort to look alive. My hair’s a mess, but I manage to tidy it with my brother’s gel.