Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Cubby rests his elbows on the bar top and leans forward. We all sit silently for a few minutes, the gravity of the situation setting in.
Finally.
“So what are we going to do about it? Let’s ask Yoda here,” Cubby ventures out loud, and it doesn’t escape me that he’s used the term we. Casually, he goes back to eating olives, turning to Weston. “Bro, what did you do when you and Molly got into your first big fight?”
“What did I do?” Weston takes a drag from his beer, wipes his mouth, and laughs. “Shit, man. I had my little sister write her a letter and then I read it out loud in public. In a restaurant.” His lips curve up at the memory. “But I was desperate.”
“Did it work?” I don’t mention my own desperation as I sit back down on my stool.
He scoffs. “Duh.”
Cubby makes a choking sound and bangs his hands on the counter. “No. No, no, no. We are not fucking writing this chick a letter.
“Are you even listening, you idiot? I didn’t tell him to write Abby a damn letter. I was only telling him what I did. Focus.”
“I was just saying…”
“Well, don’t.”
I clear my throat, agitated by their bickering. “Guys, this isn’t helping.”
Cubby slaps his hand on my back, giving it a few obligatory thumps for good measure and a show of solidarity. “No worries, Showtime. We’ll get her back. She won’t be able to resist our charm and titillating conversation for long. Get it? Tit?”
Hold up. Why does he keep saying our and we?
“Will you grow up? Seriously.”
“Goddamn, McGrath, you’re such a buzzkill. Seriously. I think Molly turned you into a pussy-whipped Sally.”
“That’s a lot of words for you, Cubby. And not a single big one.”
“Thank you. It’s a gift.”
CHAPTER 29
ABBY
It’s been four days since I’ve seen Caleb.
Four.
I’m still sore, emotional, and miserable.
Twisting the golden ring newly restored to my right hand, it cradles the finger that’s felt barren for the past few weeks. I slide it back and forth on my finger, the metallic weight of it a heavy reminder of all I’ve gained and lost in fourteen days—a reminder so heavy it’s actually become a burden.
What was once a symbol of my parents’ love and support has become a symbol of my embarrassment. My humiliation. Of Caleb’s childish, petty lie.
Three and a half weeks ago, I climbed out of that window. Twenty-four days. Five hundred and seventy-six hours. Thirty-four-thousand, five hundred and sixty minutes.
But who’s counting?
Twenty-four days is all it takes, apparently, for your emotions to be broken/shattered/torn/obliterated into a million fragile fragments. Twenty-four days ago a heart—my heart—that was so filled with expectation and passion and anticipation, is empty, wrecked, and desolate.
And lonely—lonely for Caleb.
So very aching and lonely for him that it physically hurts.
How did this happen? When did I fall so hard that it pains me to get back up?
Alright, I need to stop being so dramatic. How utterly ridiculous I’m being. He freaking lied. He took my virginity, something I can never take back and will never forget, knowing that he had my ring. Then he sat there as his friends ogled my breasts. What a… what an ass-face. Sorry, but there’s no polite way to put it.
Shake it off, Abby.
You hardly know the guy. So what if he’s just as naïve as you—he knew he had your ring. He lied by omission, and a liar isn’t worthy of you. Even a clueless one? A lie is still a lie, no matter how small. Yes, but wasn’t he trying to give it back? Yes, but he didn’t, did he?
I scoff, staring into the mirror and inhaling a deep, cleansing breath. I remove a foundation brush from my makeup caddy and begin to apply concealer around my eyes to hide the shadows looming there, and blush so I don’t look so pale.
I have to hurry.
My classes aren’t going to pass themselves.
Cecelia: Hey, sweets. Just checking up on you. How you doing?
Abby: Considering that Cubby Billings saw my naked ta-tas?
Cecelia: But he liked what he saw, right? Tee hee
Abby: ((crickets))
Cecelia: Sorry. Was that too soon?
Abby: Yeah. A little too soon. The wound is still fresh. Caleb hasn’t tried to call or text or get ahold of me. So that bums me out.
Cecelia: He will. Have some faith.
Abby: I’m trying, but… it’s not easy when Jenna is all over me, trying to cheer me up. She downloaded Tinder on my phone and was swiping right while I was in the shower last night…
Caleb
Cracking open another thick textbook, I finger through the Table of Contents, quickly find what I’m looking for, and flip to page 489. I run my finger down the small text, searching for the definition of Ombudsman.
Lost in thought, I jot down the description and categorization of the word in a separate notebook, giving a start when a loud knock bangs at my door. It sounds like two fists are battering in tandem, the door casing creaking from the excessive force. The walls vibrate, and my lamp shakes on my bedside table.