Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
It was Miss Parnell that I ran to when I got my period, who got me a heating pad and made me tea. It was her brown leathery hands, her knotted fingers combing my hair while I slept on her couch. All I know about being a decent human being is what I learned from Miss Ebony, a seventy-five-year-old woman who never had her own kids, who took care of the eight of us better than my own parents ever did.
“Smile, Mandy Sue. A lady always smiles,” her voice rings loudly in my mind as I stare at the front door. “Be nice, Mandy Sue. Being nice gets you much farther in life.”
I can do this. We’re adults for Pete’s sake. There’s no reason we can’t cohabitate in a civil manner. Go optimism!
All we need is to establish some ground rules. Such as no keggers and no sleepovers of the sexual variety. No traipsing about naked in the communal living area. That should go without saying, and yet sadly, in this circumstance it needs to be said.
With that in mind, I plaster a smile on my face I am not at all feeling and march up the front steps. “Stay here,” I tell Sam before I walk through the front door.
In the living room I find Greg stuffing an empty pizza box into a black trash bag. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts. Thank the Lord for small favors. That’s about it, though. Well––that and the kiddie glasses.
As he reaches down for yet another empty beer can, I take stock of this guy’s measurements. Tall, a lot taller than me and I’m no slouch at 5’11”. His biceps are roughly the size of my thighs and that’s saying a lot; I’m no stranger to squats. His traps should have their own zip code. A University of Alabama tattoo runs across the left side of his ribs. A dusting of dark blond hair peppers his chest, which matches the stripe running down his abdomen. I’m ashamed to say I looked. And even though I wish I could unsee things that I can’t unsee, I know the rest of him is built to scale.
It’s been a few minutes and he has yet to look my way or stop what he’s doing. I wait. I wait some more. I try raising a hand. It ends up being an awkward, stunted gesture. Which looks more like a weird half raised fist, half swat. Even that doesn’t get his attention.
“Uh-hum,” I say, clearing my throat. Still nothing. Toe tapping, I forge ahead. “Henderson? Hello?” He keeps doing what he’s doing. What a beast, an ill-mannered one. “We need to talk.”
Straightening to his full glory, he finally faces me. Praise JC.
“Smile, Mandy Sue, smile,” Miss Parnell’s words come to me. I give him by best toothy grin. This has no effect on him whatsoever. None of the good variety, that is. His eyes narrow. A strange shade of blue, I note. Almost electric. I can feel the zapping sting of his examination on my skin.
I swallow reflexively and my eyes climb up. There’s only so much aggressive eye contact I can hold without developing a permanent stutter. Those ridiculous glasses are still brazenly perched on top of his head. On anybody else the contradiction would be funny, on him it’s downright spooky.
“Be nice, Mandy Sue. You catch more flies with honey.”
“But why would I want to catch flies, Miss Parnell?” I’d asked her. She never did give me a direct answer, only a soft knowing smile. Standing here as the target of this guy’s contempt, I can say with absolute certainty that I am not at all interested in catching flies.
His staring doesn’t let up, prompting the handwringing on my part. I haven’t fallen back into old bad habits like this in years. One hour in this dude’s company and they all crop up.
I’m a lot like my older brother that way, shy, not naturally outgoing. The difference is that Calvin has a backbone made of steel whereas I never had one to begin with. It’s taken me forever to grow one and this guy is messing with all my hard work.
“Since we’re both going to be living here for however long, I think it’s best we…uh, you know…set some rules for the house.” His silence is my cue to continue. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be throwing parties and…”
Dang, this is embarrassing. He has yet to blink. What is this guy’s deal?
“And…uh, have female companions over when my son is in the house,” I continue, smiling wider, to the point that my face is starting to ache. Not to mention that house comes out sounding like howz because I’m flustered with all the negative energy closing in on me. I’m going to have to do a sage cleanse once this is over.