Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
“Okay. But, uh, in case something changes, you all stocked up on condoms and lube? You know I can always call in a favor and get you what you need if you’re running low.”
“I’m good, Dad. Still going through the liter of lube Mom put in my stocking last year.” It was the only thing in my stocking. She wrapped it in festive paper with penises wearing little Santa hats and beards. I have no idea where the hell she found the paper, but I made origami cranes out of it and put one on each plate at the table when she had her friends over for a New Year’s dinner party.
“Good. Good.” He taps the steering wheel. “Remember, foreplay isn’t a suggestion, it’s a necessity if you’re a Waters man.”
“I’m super aware of that, Dad, but thanks for the reminder.”
Thankfully, my dad stops both the sex lectures and the hockey talk. He makes a right down Hackett Street, and my heart does this weird thing in my chest, as if it stops beating for a second before catching up again. It’s just after nine, and Clover’s front porch light is off. As we pass, I notice a pair of figures in the kitchen.
And that black BMW is parked in front of the house. Still. Again. I grab the door handle.
“Mav?”
“Huh?” I tune back in, my throat tight. The automatic locks are on; otherwise, I’d already be out of the vehicle.
“You’re coming home for Christmas and staying for a bit between games?” Dad asks. “You’ve got almost two weeks off, according to the schedule. Everyone’s going to be up at the lake. Your aunts and uncles, the Bowmans and Westinghouses too.”
“Yeah, I might have some shifts at the gym, though.”
“Is that still working out for you? Do you think you’re taking on too much with your final semester coming?” He pulls up in front of the house.
“Nah, it’s only a couple shifts a week. I can handle it.”
“Okay. I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed.” He gives my shoulder another squeeze.
“You gonna come in? I don’t think River’s home.” His car isn’t parked in the driveway, and he’s been sleeping somewhere else a lot.
Dad shakes his head. “It’s late. I should head home, and I saw your sister earlier this afternoon before my meeting. We had a late lunch. She seems like she’s really settling in here. It’s good that she has you to watch out for her.”
“She’s different than she was when we were kids.” I pinch the bridge of my nose as memories pop like bubbles in my brain. It’s been like that a lot lately. It makes it hard to stay focused on any one thing.
“Mav? Is something going on with Lavender?” My dad’s hand is still on my shoulder.
I shake my head. “No. She’s fine.” I reach for the door handle, but blurt, “Do you ever think about what happened at the carnival?”
“Of course.” He clears his throat, his voice gruff. “More often than I’d like.”
I nod, but don’t look at him. “It’s been coming up a lot for me lately.”
“Is your sister talking about it? Do you think she needs to talk to her therapist more?” There’s an edge of panic in his voice.
“Lavender isn’t talking about it,” I reassure him. “And she seems like she’s handling college fine.”
“Then what’s going on? Is it Kody-related? Does it have to do with their relationship? Do I need to talk to him?”
I hold up a hand. “No, Dad. You don’t need to talk to Kody. It’s not about that. Just forget about it.”
“You’re a good kid, Mav. Impulsive, but good.”
I want to stab myself in the eye. I nod again, my mouth dry, my stomach unsettled. I swallow down the bile and force a smile. “I should hit the books. I’ve got an exam to study for.”
“Yeah. Of course.” My dad’s expression is pinched. He looks like he wants to say more but isn’t sure what or how. “If you ever need to talk, about anything, all you have to do is call. Your mother and I are always going to be here for you, no matter what.”
“I know, Dad.” Except I’m not sure he would say that if he could see inside my head.
“Tell River to call when he gets a chance. Your mom thinks he’s dodging her messages because it takes him more than twenty minutes to respond.” Dad shakes his head.
“I’ll try, but I haven’t seen much of him lately.” I hop out of the cab and grab my backpack from the back, waving as he pulls away from the curb.
I drop my bag in the front foyer, grab an Uber and head to the freshman party, needing something to distract me. The driver takes Hackett Street, which seems to be a shortcut to a lot of places. The black BMW from this morning is still parked in her driveway. It’s closing in on ten. I guess if the car is still there in the morning, I know what the real deal is.