Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“The fluid guy?”
“Don’t call him that; it sounds weird and gross. No, I’ll call him later.”
“And breakup with him?” I turn to glare at him. “Or is that even necessary when you’re not in a relationship with someone?”
“Don’t be a jerk.”
“I’m just asking questions so that I know when I can kiss you again.”
“That’s never happening.” My cheeks are so hot that I’m sure they are red.
“Sure it isn’t.”
“I’m serious, Logan, our kids are friends, and I’m not looking for a relationship or to make things complicated.”
“So, you’re admitting that you’re not currently in a relationship,” he says, and I groan because I did just say that, even though that is not what I meant.
“Can we stop talking?” I cross my arms over my chest and focus out the open window on the playground where the fourth graders are having their last recess of the day. The entire area is open, with just a short metal fence that does nothing but act as a barrier between the playground and fields from the sidewalk and street. Scanning through the kids, I search for Zuri and find her sitting in the grass with a group of girls, including Heather, all of them seeming to pick the yellow weed flowers from the grass.
I sent an e-mail to the principal and her teachers this morning explaining what happened over the weekend and asking that they keep an eye on her and that they try to insist that she not run around like she normally would at recess or during PE. I also had a long talk with her about it last night and again this morning. I’m happy to see that she listened.
As I’m watching her, I see Cooper and a group of boys playing soccer near the girls, but far enough away that they won’t accidentally hit them with the ball. Or I assume that they won’t be able to hit them with the ball until one boy seems to come out of nowhere, kicking the soccer ball before another kid can get to it. The ball flies through the air and crashes into the back of the head of one of the girls sitting in the circle with Heather and Zuri. The impact is so hard that her entire body goes forward.
As she clutches the back of her head and the other girls around her move in to check that she’s okay, I see the boy who kicked the ball run off laughing with Cooper and another kid chasing him.
“What the fuck?” Logan bites out beside me.
Unhooking my seatbelt, I lean over the side of the Jeep and shout.
“Is she okay?”
All the girls who were in the circle look my way, and I see that the girl who got hit is crying. I’m not even a little happy that someone got hurt, but all I can think is that I’m glad the ball didn’t hit Zuri in the face because the obvious force of the impact could have easily opened up her stitches.
“She’s okay,” Zuri and Heather both say at the same time.
“You need to go tell the teacher.” I scan the field for an adult, and there are two that I see, and one of them is talking to Cooper and the boy he had been playing soccer with. Hopefully, they are telling her what happened. It looks like they are when I see the woman start walking to where the girls are sitting.
“Sit down, baby, I gotta roll forward,” Logan says, putting his finger in the loop in the back of my shorts and tugging down so that I have no choice but to fall to my bottom.
“I wonder if that’s the kid that Zuri said is a jerk,” I tell him, wiping my hand down my thighs.
“Matthew.”
“What?” I ask, distracted by the teacher who is now talking to the girls. We’re getting so far away that I can just barely see them around the edge of the building.
“Coop said the kid who is a jerk in their class is Matthew.”
“Zuri has never told me his name.” I fidget, wondering why she hasn’t. I’ve asked her who he is, and all she ever says is it doesn’t matter. The same way she seemed to freeze up, then brush off the question when I spoke to her about the boy who shoved her at the baseball game. I’m worried about her keeping information from me. I don’t understand why she would or why she is.
“You okay?” Logan asks, and I look over and find him studying me intently.
“Just...” I rub my lips together, then ask. “What do you do when your kids keep things from you?”
“There’s not much to do except be patient.” He reaches his hand between us like he’s going to touch me, but stops himself. I’m more disappointed than I should be. “I’ve found out the hard way that getting pissed doesn’t work, nor does pushing for information. But if I wait them out, they’ll usually tell me what’s bothering them.”