Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
I don’t know what I expected from Connor, but it was close to what I got. “All I’m saying is that if the sex sounds like running through the rain in flip-flops—” He blinked at me, a picture of innocence. “—it’s bomb.”
For a moment, I thought about the sound running through the rain in flip-flops would make, and my stomach turned.
Ew.
Connor grinned and I realized I’d said it out loud.
Leaning in, I listened to every dumb little tidbit they wished to share.
“I washed it ten freaking times, but,” Hell revealed solemnly, “it’s smelled like vomit ever since.”
More stories were told.
“So when I came to, I woke in the hospital with my arm in a cast and a gash on my chin.” Lee pointed to the scar on his chin. “See it?”
I saw it.
The stories seemed never ending.
Noah’s lips thinned and he slowly shook his head. “No one told me it was an electric fence.”
These were the tales of little boys, not grown men.
I tried to hold it in but I couldn’t. Soft laughter left me and I covered my mouth in an attempt to stop it. Unfortunately, it just made me laugh harder.
Connor kept his eyes on me and smiled at my unrestrained mirth. Suddenly, his smile faded. he jerked his chin towards me and uttered, “What about you?”
Immediately, my laughter allayed. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.” His eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. “What’s your story?”
My story?
Did I even have a story?
If I did, it wasn’t much. It definitely wasn’t like any of theirs but the expectant gazes of the four men in front of me told me it was my turn to share.
“Uh,” I started at the beginning. “I guess I was your typical kid. I grew up in Bakersfield with my mom. I never knew my dad. I mean, Mom insisted she loved him but later on down the track, Nanna disclosed the guy was married and mom was his mistress, so yeah.” They listened closely. “Mom got sick when I was seven. She died soon after and so I moved in with Nanna. Went to Marshall High and finished a year early. Immediately after, I went to college and got a degree.” Or two. “I graduated”—with honors—“and started looking for work but I noticed Nanna was becoming forgetful and it wasn’t until a few weeks later that I realized how bad it actually was. I got a call from the police.” It was the worst day of my life. “They wouldn’t tell me much, just that I needed to pick her up. So when I got there Nanna was disoriented and she kept calling me by my mom’s name, June. She ended up north of the highway and I asked her why she didn’t just go home.” I paused. “She told me she couldn’t remember how to get there.” I cleared my throat. “That was when I stopped looking for work and decided to care for her. That was three years ago.”
I didn’t reveal that at the time we couldn’t afford a caretaker or to put her in a home. That was my business. Solely my business.
“That sucks, kid,” stated Lee.
“Yeah,” Hell said, then asked, “What’s she got?”
“Dementia.” It was hard to talk about. “She’s in a home now. St Jude’s. It’s a nice place.” A pricey place that I could afford thanks to this job. “Her memory is shaky. Some days, she’s lucid. Other days, she’s… not. Most of the time, she doesn’t even remember me.” Which was absolutely heartbreaking. “Unfortunately, she needs constant care at the hands of a nurse and that’s not something I can be for her.”
I’m not sure why that last statement came out as defensive as it did.
“Of course,” Noah uttered kindly. “That’s a big ask of anyone, especially someone your age.”
Connor straightened in his seat. “How old is she?”
“She’s older. Quite a lot older.” And declining quickly. “She had my mom late in life, when she was in her forties.” I smiled softly. “Mom was her miracle baby.”
Having had enough of this conversation, I asked, “May I—?” I was embarrassed and bit my lip, but tried again. “Can I take a photo of you?”
Noah was the first to speak. “Sure.”
It would be the first photo taken on my new smartphone, courtesy of the label.
They posed for me and I took the shot, looking down at the screen and smiling. “Cool.”
“You’re not gonna post that on social media now, are you?” Connor enquired coolly.
“Oh, uh…” I looked up at him. “I don’t have social media.”
Hell frowned in disbelief. “What? Why?”
I realized that was fairly unheard of.
“How do you keep in touch with your friends?” Lee asked, completely baffled.
What friends?
The silence that followed was cutting and my gut clenched painfully.
My smile fell and pressure built in my ears.
A slow flush rose up my neck to heat my cheeks. I bit my lip hard enough to bruise.