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 exhale and look out the passenger window of the car, trying to collect myself. My brother is a fucking lunatic. There’s no way around it. I truly thought dragging Jonas rock climbing all day would take his mind off Sarah—and, specifically, the fact that she’s decided to stay at her mom’s house to recuperate instead of Jonas’ (and also hasn’t been very communicative while she’s been there, either)—but I was wrong. Dead wrong. Not only did Jonas continue obsessing about Sarah throughout our climb today, he did it while I was trapped on a fucking mountain with him with nowhere to go. Jesus Christ. If I’d known Jonas was gonna drive me nuts during our entire climb, I would have just sat on his couch, watching basketball and drinking way too much beer. At least then I could have left the room occasionally to bang my head against the wall. Or, at the very least, numbed myself with way too much alcohol.
All I wanna do right now is call Sarah and say, “Whatever’s going on between you and Jonas, please just give the guy a fucking call and tell him whatever the fuck’s on your mind, good or bad, because until my high-strung brother hears from you and confirms whatever it is you’re thinking, he’s gonna be a fucking nightmare to be around.” But, obviously, I’m not gonna do that. The girl was stabbed. She’s probably scared and freaked out and maybe a little bit confused right now. She’s got plenty on her plate worrying about her own mental health without having to worry about Jonas’ too. I’ve got to just let this thing take its natural course—and pray to God it goes Jonas’ way. Because after everything Jonas has had to endure in his life, I really don’t want his dream girl to shatter his heart, too.
“Jonas, I know it’s hard for you,” I say, “but you’ve just gotta let the girl sort her shit out. She’s been through a huge trauma. She probably just needs a little break. Be patient with her.”
“I don’t do patient.”
“No shit.” I roll my eyes. “But it’s only natural she’d want her mom after what she’s been through. I’m sure most people with a mother would react the same way.”
Jonas literally snarls at me.
I roll my eyes at him again. “Oh my fucking God. Jonas, I’m as motherless as you are. Obviously. I didn’t say that to twist some knife into your heart. I’m just saying we don’t know what it’s like to turn to a mother in a time of crisis—but other people do. Normal people.”
“But why isn’t she even talking to me?” Jonas says. “I understand her wanting her mom. But something’s off. I can feel it. And it’s fucking killing me.”
“Just give her a little space,” I mumble, but my tone isn’t compassionate. I’ve been with Jonas all fucking day. I’m all out of compassion. “Sarah wanting to be with her mother is no reflection on how she feels about you. Stop thinking everything’s about you all the time. You make me want to open my car door and hurl myself onto the freeway just to get away from you.”
Jonas grits his teeth as he glares out the windshield of his car. “Maybe I should drive over there?” he finally says. “Tell her how I feel?”
“No, Jonas.”
He grips the steering wheel again. “Or send flowers with a note?”
“Flowers? Jesus, Jonas. No. Just leave her alone.”
“Maybe I should, I don’t know, go park my car across the street from her mom’s house and sit there for a while?”
I laugh. “What the fuck? You mean like a stalker?”
“No, not like a stalker. Like a boyfriend.”
“Like a... Ha!” I can’t control my laughter. “That’s your idea of what a boyfriend does? You’re gonna go be John Cusack in Say Anything with the beat box over your head, standing in the rain?”
“John Cusack didn’t stand in the rain.”
“Sure he did.”
“No.”
“Well, either way,” I say. “That’d be totally stalker-ish. It was stalker-ish when John Cusack did it in the first place. I don’t know why everyone thinks that was so fucking romantic. It was just weird. Fucking desperate. Women hate desperate.”
Someone cuts Jonas off and he honks his horn. “Motherfucker.” There’s a long pause. “Well, I can relate,” he says.
“To what?”
“To John Cusack.” He exhales. “I’m desperate.”
I shake my head. What the fuck am I gonna do about my fucking brother? He doesn’t say a word about any particular woman since Amanda, not a fucking word, and now he won’t shut the fuck up about this one? I can’t decide whether I like hermit-Jonas or desperately-in-love Jonas better. “You sent a couple bodyguards over to her mom’s house, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then. She’s safe. That’s all that matters. Leave her alone.”
Jonas sighs audibly. “But if I drive over there, she might at least notice me sitting out there. And then she’d know I’m thinking about her.”