Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Leighton takes a beat, then nods slowly. “I’m not sure. But maybe…the two of you aren’t done talking.”
I mull on that as the server brings our lunch.
“It’s something to think about,” Isla says, nudging me toward this new…realization, perhaps.
Maybe I should think about it.
But first, I eat lunch with my friends, and afterward, I finally post the skating video from Cozy Valley with the caption: It’s like lightning.
I wonder if Tyler still watches them.
I don’t know.
But Chad clearly does, since he leaves a comment that evening.
Good job, Sabrina.
Maybe if he’d done this a while ago, I’d have cursed, spat, or sent a million Can you believe this? screenshots to my friends.
Instead, I just delete his words.
And I make another appointment to see Elena. But how to handle Tyler isn’t so easy. I don’t know what I’ll say to him or if I’m ready to open my heart to hurt again.
And I don’t know when I will be.
47
LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT
Tyler
“A dog walk?” I ask my mother on the phone when she calls after morning skate on Saturday.
“Yes, that thing where you put leashes on pooches and they bark at every other dog that dares to pass by.”
I heave a sigh as I trudge down the corridor toward the players’ lot, a few paces behind my brother. “I know what a dog walk is.”
“Are you sure? You seemed confused.”
“Because you don’t usually call me to join you on a dog walk.”
“Do you have something against dogs?”
“Mom. No. Obviously,” I say, exasperated, even though it’s only been a short call.
“And you’re free today since Elle has the kids,” she adds.
My mother knows everything. Is she a superhero? Well, probably. “She has them all weekend,” I admit.
“Perfect. Then your brother knows where to meet me.”
“Miles knows?”
As if on cue, Miles spins around and flashes me a smile and a thumbs-up.
I groan as I near the door. “Why do I have the feeling I’m walking into an ambush?”
My mother laughs. “Sweetheart, you’re the one who reached out to us on Saturday.”
“And we never met for lunch,” I point out with a grumble, because I’m feeling grumbly.
“Because you cancelled,” she says, matter-of-factly.
Right. Because what was the point? I’d originally planned to meet with them to talk about next steps with Sabrina, and, well, those became clear as day. “So you changed it to a dog walk?”
I’m pushing back because I know my mom. The woman is always ten steps ahead of me.
“Yes. Charlie has to work, but like I said, your brother knows where to meet me. Bye!”
She hangs up right as Miles reaches the door, swinging it open. “Good thing I drove us today.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You trapped me, dude.”
“Did I?” he asks with a smirk.
“You fucking did.”
He claps my shoulder as we stride across the lot to his car. “Maybe you need to be trapped.”
The long-haired Boppity leads the pack of Chihuahua rescue mutts. She’s tiny—maybe seven pounds, but she’s the biggest dog in the world in her mind, so she barks her presence to any mammal that enters her fifty-foot pack radius. My mom holds her leash and Boo’s as well. I’ve got Cindy while Miles has Bippity as we walk the fearsome foursome along Marina Green, the Golden Gate Bridge rising majestically in a clear blue January sky.
“So, why did you cancel with us the other day? Does it have something to do with the…” Mom pauses, adjusting her sunglasses so she can look at me over the tops of the big cheetah shades, “breakup?”
This superpower of hers is hard to keep up with. “How did you find out about that?” I shoot my gaze toward Miles. He must have told her.
My brother holds up his hands in surrender. “Not me.”
“Had to have been you,” I say.
My mom cackles. “I figured it out. You’ve been a grumpy turd, and when I picked the kids up from school yesterday they said you and Sabrina were acting, and I quote, weird. Then they told me about a certain presentation last weekend,” she says. “And I put it all together.”
There you go. Secrets and my family don’t co-exist. “Okay, and?”
“And, young man, why are you being so surly with your mother?”
“And your brother?” Miles pipes in.
“Are you here to echo her?” I snap to Miles.
He slows his pace and stares straight at me. “And are you going to be a big dick?”
Ouch. “I’m not being a dick.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been a surly, sullen bastard since Sunday night. You were like an ogre on our Los Angeles trip,” he says, mentioning our quick midweek road trip down the state.
“It’s my old hometown,” I say, like that justifies my mood.
“Boys!” My mother cuts in with a sharp and clear order. She doesn’t yell, since she doesn’t have to. But we all stop. Including the four dogs. They turn their snouts to Mom, waiting for an order from on high. Miles and I look at her, chastened.