Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
I nod again. My skin is electrified.
“You want more? Because I got more.”
I don’t even hesitate in my reply. “I want it all, Josh.”
His eyes are on fire. His chest is heaving. “I got it because, after the thing with my dad, my brother was in a fucking mental institution for almost a full year, totally and completely losing his shit—he didn’t even look like himself, Kat. There was nothing I could do to help him. No joke I could tell to make him laugh. No words of wisdom to make it all better. So I went away to college or else I was gonna fucking kill myself, I swear to God—I was right on the verge—and I joined a fraternity and lived in the loudest, most chaotic house I could fucking find and got shit-faced half the time and high the other half and made friends who saved my fucking life. And from there on out, I’ve been Happy Josh all the live-long fucking day.”
My heart is racing. I swallow hard.
His voice becomes low and quiet. “I got it because sometimes I get so fucking tired of being the sane brother, the one who always rises above, the one you can always count on, the happy one, I just lose my fucking shit, Kat. I lose it. And then I go on a bender of one kind or another until I get whatever crazy fucking shit out of my system—and then I go back to being Happy Fucking Josh just like I always am—just like Jonas needs me to be.”
I swallow hard, trying to alleviate the lump in my throat.
I wait, but Josh doesn’t say anything else.
He clears his throat. “Will you excuse me for a minute?” he says abruptly.
Without waiting for my reply, Josh gets off the bed, beelines to the bathroom, and disappears.
I sit for about a minute, staring at the closed door, trembling, swallowing hard.
And then a dam breaks inside me and I burst into tears.
Thirty-Six
Kat
For ten minutes, I sit and wait for Josh to come out of the bathroom. And in that time, I manage to regain control of my emotions. I’m calm again. My eyes are dry.
I switch the song on Josh’s laptop to Audra Mae (my new favorite) singing “The River.” And then, I sit and wait.
Josh comes out of the bathroom and sits back down on the bed, positioning himself exactly the way he was before he left the room.
I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.
“So, PG, I have yet to discover a single tattoo on you,” he says, his voice light and bright. “And, believe me, I’ve conducted an extremely thorough search.”
I shift my position on the bed. My heart feels like it’s gonna hurtle out of my chest. I put my hands over my face, collecting myself. I didn’t expect him to come back in here and pretend he never said any of that stuff to me. I was steeling myself to hold back my tears while he continued pouring his heart out to me. I didn’t expect him to come back in here like nothing happened.
“Ever thought of getting a tattoo?” he asks, his voice tight, his eyes pleading with me to play along.
I can’t concentrate. I don’t know what to do—how to react. “Um,” I stutter, “I have one, actually.”
“You do? Where?” His eyes are warming, reverting to the way they always look.
I pivot my body and lift my hair, revealing a tiny scorpion on the nape of my neck. “I’m a Scorpio.”
“Whoa. Sexy. Can’t believe I missed that. So are you into astrology? Or you just really like being a Scorpio?”
“Yeah, I love astrology. I’ve read a bunch of books on it.”
There’s a beat. His chest is rising and falling visibly. He bites his lip.
“Um, I wanna get a second one,” I say, still not sure how I’m supposed to proceed here. “But I’ve just never been able to decide on something that would be meaningful enough—something I’d want ’til the end of time.”
“Well, that’s silly. There’s no such thing as ‘’til the end of time.’ Just get what you like right now. That’s all we have, no matter what story we tell ourselves to make us feel better.”
There’s a long beat. Damn. He’s kinda dark.
His eyes flicker. “I don’t wanna sit here and talk about my fucking feelings all night long, okay? Just forget I ever said all that shit to you, okay? Don’t ask me about it—just put it out of your head, okay? Please.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry about?”
“For... I dunno. Forcing you to spill your guts if you didn’t want to.”
“You didn’t force anything. I’m a grown-ass man.” He pauses a long time. “I shouldn’t have told you all that. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I’m a grown-ass woman. I told you in my application—I want to know the real you. I don’t want Happy Josh. I want Real Josh.”