Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Sent from my Android SmartPhone
TO: Cecelia Carter
DATE: September 23, 2014 at 06:55:07 PM CST
FROM: Matthew Wakefield
Subject: No Words.
Do my parents ever come to watch me coach? Naw. It’s way too far for them to drive all the way from River Glen to Madison just to watch a group of 12 year olds massacre the game. Sometimes it’s painful to watch. Well actually, there are a few kids that seriously crack me up – I still have to tie up this one kid Isaac’s laces. He can’t skate for shit, but his heart is in it. It’s something you really gotta come see; you would think it sucks coaching an underdog team, but it’s really rewarding. I get more satisfaction out of it than I would coaching a winning team, and Wes feels the same way. NOT that we sit around discussing that shit or anything…
MSW
Sent from my iPhone
TO: Matthew Wakefield
DATE: September 23, 2014 at 07:18:54 PM CST
FROM: Cecelia Carter
Subject: Deep Thoughts.
I didn’t take you for a guy who sits around discussing his feelings but I guess I was wrong (wink wink). No use in denying it. Truth: I know for a fact Weston likes to have “life chats” with Molly, promptly followed by, well… YOU KNOW... - C
Sent from my Android SmartPhone
TO: Cecelia Carter
DATE: September 23, 2014 at 07:20:14 PM CST
FROM: Matthew Wakefield
Subject: You bitch!
WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT??????????????????
MSW
Sent from my iPhone
CHAPTER 11
MATTHEW
“I’m jealous of me, too.”
– Neve Vanderhalt
I stare at the email on my phone, the horrible visual of my sister and her boyfriend screwing, thanks to her horrible roommate. Instead of emailing Cecelia back, I go with the quickest option and tap out a text.
Me: Thanks for the visual. My retinas are burning.
A few seconds later…
Cecelia: Well at least you don’t have to HEAR it.
Oh my god, I’m going to kill this girl.
Me: What the fuck.
Sorry about the harsh language (but not really). No one ever accused me of being a gentleman, and I make no apologies for the frequent cursing.
Cecelia: ((Shrug)) Truth sucks, don’t it?
Me: Kind of.
There is a long pause in the conversation, and she doesn’t respond back. Not that my response gave her anything to respond to.
A word to the wise: If you’re ever trying to have a conversation with someone, always – and I mean always – use open ended statements that end with a question mark so the other person has something to respond to.
I type out another message and change the subject.
Me: So what did you end up doing today?
Cecelia: Some of my thesis paper for grad school. I’m just about done.
Me: No shit – when do you graduate?
Cecelia: LOL. I graduated last year with a BS in Econ. I’ll have my MBA in a few months. 42 days actually.
Me: So… how did you end up roommates with Molly if she’s a sophomore and you’re in grad school?
Cecelia: Good question. Answer: Facebook.
Me: WTF. Do my parents know Molly found her roomie on the internet?????
Cecelia: Whoa buddy. Don’t get offensive – It’s not like I’m a creeper. My friend Abby’s friend is Jenna’s cousin so it all worked out.
Me: Oh. Like one of those “my sister’s cousin’s daughter’s boyfriend” type of deals.
Cecelia: Exactly!
Cecelia: Match made in heaven (wink). Plus I get the added bonus of her giant boyfriend as a bodyguard. Not to mention he has some really HOT friends.
Me: Um……
She doesn’t stop there.
Cecelia: Speaking of which. Guess who called me?
Me: Do I want to know?
Cecelia: Your friend Neve. He asked me out. Yay me!
I stare at the phone a few stony seconds before lobbing it on to the glass table in my dining room, irritated. It lands with a loud crack, skids across the surface and falls to the Oriental rug below. I ignore it and stalk to the kitchen, throwing on the water in the sink, pump some foaming hand soap onto my palms and scrub my hands angrily.
What the fuck is Neve doing asking her out? Is she nuts saying yes? They only just met! Not only that, he never ran it past me. I mean, where did he even get her damn number from?
Never mind. I already know the answer to that one - my sister’s idiot boyfriend, who is clearly becoming a wealth of information where Cecelia Carter is concerned.
The more I think about it, the more pissed off I become.
I shut the water off, yank a hand towel off the oven handle and dry my hands before stalking angrily back into the dining room and swiping my phone from the floor in a testosterone filled fury.
I shove it in my back pocket, and purposefully set my mind to taking my mind off the whole thing. If I stay busy, I won’t have to think about it anymore.
So for the next few hours I’ve managed to: