Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Like? That doesn’t even cover it. Not even a little.
“It’s much more than that,” I confess.
Because I think I might be in love with him.
32
Ryan
Sitting on the couch at Dax’s apartment, I scroll through old pics and videos on Instagram.
Mom, Dad, and me at the Grand Canyon.
Six Flags.
Universal Studios.
Westminster Abbey.
I search through these reminders of our past, analyzing my parents’ expressions, scrutinizing every one to see if I can tell when things went so wrong that they couldn’t be fixed.
I settle on a video from a hike in Cape Town. Well, Dad told Mom it would be a hike, but it became more like a climb, which annoyed the hell out of her because she wasn’t wearing the shoes for it. But as I watch the video of us, celebrating reaching the top of the mountain, she’s smiling as much as ever. She and Dad kiss behind me as I hold my phone, keeping us all in the frame. “Get a room,” I tease them before the video comes to an end.
I scroll back in my profile feed. We look happy, but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe things weren’t working for even longer than they’ve shared with me. After all, they’ve been keeping this secret. It’s hard to tell when they started hiding their drifting apart.
I want to go back to the way things were, yet I also wouldn’t want them to do that if it meant Mom wouldn’t have that bright smile on her face again.
This sucks.
And something about this internal turmoil makes pain flare in my goddamn thumb, which is still giving me hell. To think that working out the stress on the builds was really helping me, and then I went and fucked it up by hurting myself. And now, as I’m sitting here, alone, I’m regretting letting Marty go to his parents’ place without me because I want to be with him.
He was so good when I got injured. Taking me to urgent care, right at my side. Just like he’s been through all this shit since I found out about Mom’s new boyfriend. Or really, not so new.
What I hate most about this is I’ve put up a wall. I know he feels it too, but it’s not about him. It’s this part of me that fears, if the two people I was most open with about my life can wind up doing something that hurts like this, then why let anybody in? And that makes me hate myself even more because if anyone has shown me that I can be vulnerable with him, it’s Mart.
I grab a bag of peas from the freezer to soothe my thumb, and as I wrap it up, the doorknob rattles. Relief pulses through me, but when the door opens, it’s Dax.
“Oh…” I can’t help the disappointment in my tone.
“Ouch.” He presses his hand to his heart, as though signifying the figurative bullet he just took.
“Sorry. I thought it’d be…”
“I’m offended, not stupid. And really not that offended. I get it. How’s the thumb?”
I head into the living area. “Doesn’t feel like it’s about to fall off anymore.”
“Well, that’s progress. Troy caught us up on the urgent care visit. Glad you’re doing okay. Where’s Mart? Getting food? You think if I text him, he can grab me something?”
As he plops down on the couch, I tell him, “He went to his parents’. I insisted. I just…needed some space.”
“Considering how eager you looked when I came in, I’d say you wished he was here right now.”
“Anyone accuse you of being too perceptive?” I joke, since that seems to be his thing.
“Sometimes,” he says in this cocky but charming way he has.
Maybe it’s his cool attitude or the fact that he’s always easy to talk to. Or maybe I just need to get this out of my system, because I go for it. “I’ve got a lot going on with my parents, and it feels like being buried under a dogpile right now. It’s hard because I care about Marty so much, but I hate that he knows how much this is hitting me. Makes me feel like I’m ruining his summer.”
His brows tug together. “Okay, you’re worried you might be ruining Marty’s summer? I’m sure most people would assume it’d be the opposite.”
“Hey, he’s more fun than any of you give him credit for.” I’m surprised by how defensive that comes out, and the way Dax’s eyes widen, he is too.
“You know that was a joke, right? You used to be good at those. And also, you were the one who always gave Marty hell about his attitude. The rest of us knew he was cool.”
Now I feel guilty for snapping at my friend. “I know, sorry.” I settle beside him on the couch. “Between life and my thumb, I’m in a grumpy mood.”