Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
- Mike from #113
Mike from room 113 doesn’t know the proper usage of you’re, but I’d be okay with that if he hadn’t also left his room a complete wreck. Leftover pepperoni pizza under the pillows, Mike? Why? How?
“Do we have enough to get the car out of the shop now?” McKenna asks, sounding hopeful. I can’t bear to look up at her. She’s all the things I didn’t get the chance to be: innocent, doe-eyed, sweet. I want to hold her against my bosom and keep her there forever. I want to squeeze her soft cheeks and tell her the world is a beautiful and happy place. I do not want to tell her that with the $14.50 in tips I got today, we’re not even remotely close to getting our car back. In fact, this money won’t even be going into the car fund. We need it for groceries.
I force a smile and nod. “We’re getting there. Have you finished your homework?”
She rolls her eyes halfheartedly and sits back down at the table across from me. Her biology textbook is open and she continues her reading assignment while she eats her dinner. Seeing her there, looking so much like I did at her age, makes it hard to get a full breath. It’s like seeing what could have been in another life.
A pounding on the trailer’s door jolts me out of my thoughts and I turn, frowning, wondering who could be coming by here at this time of night. My mom’s still working her shift at the grocery store and not due back for another hour at least. My brain immediately thinks of Lonny, but then I quickly cast that thought aside. He’s moved on. He has no reason to come snooping around here.
Still, I tell McKenna to stay put and then I peer tentatively through the faded curtains over our couch. I heave a sigh of relief when I spot Jeremy’s truck parked in the grass beyond our front door.
“You could have called first,” I joke as I tug the door open.
He holds up his phone, an annoyed expression across his face. In his other hand, he holds a plastic grocery bag knotted at the top. “I have—three times.”
I blush. Cell reception isn’t the best out here. “Sorry. What’s up?”
His eyes immediately home in on my plate of spaghetti on the table as he pushes through the door, dropping his bag and kicking off his dirty work boots. “I’m starving. You have any more?”
McKenna holds up her bowl. “You can have mine.”
Jeremy and I both say “No” at the same time then I head over to our small kitchenette to grab a spare bowl so I can split my portion with him. This is unusual. He doesn’t show up at our trailer out of the blue much these days, especially now that he’s dating Khloe. If he’s not at work, he’s usually with her. A year into their relationship, they still have stars in their eyes. I’m happy for him, but I refuse to say so because then he’ll start rambling on about her for an hour and I’m tired and I need a shower and I don’t have all night to hear about how he’s saving up money to buy an engagement ring.
I let him eat a few bites of spaghetti before I question him again. “So…to what do we owe this pleasure?”
He finishes chewing, wipes his mouth, and then levels me with a toothy grin. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.
“I have a solution for our money problems, cuz.”
Uh huh. Not likely.
“Jeremy, please tell me Nick didn’t convince you to start dealing.” I immediately point a finger toward McKenna. “Pretend you didn’t hear that.”
She makes a motion like she’s zipping her lips then pretends to go back to reading.
“Not even close,” Jeremy says before he proceeds to eat three more bites of spaghetti, leaving me sitting there, impatiently waiting for him to continue.
Eventually, I yank the bowl out from in front of him and hold it far enough away that he’s forced to look up at me.
“Tell me.”
He chews slowly, swallows slowly, sits back slowly. I’m going to kill him.
“You remember when some big-time developer snatched up the old summer camp out that way, heading toward Louisiana?”
I nod. “Yeah. We all thought they were going to do something with it, but nothing’s happened.”
He leans forward, his green eyes aglow. “Well they are doing something with it. Apparently, they’re going to turn it into some fancy resort. Massive hotel, golf course, pools—the works.”
My heart drops. This isn’t the first time this town has gotten its hopes up like this. A few years back, Walmart was planning on building a distribution center out here. It never happened. Then a few oil companies wanted to set up some speculative drill sites. They promised Oak Dale and its residents would have so much money pouring in, we wouldn’t know what to do with it. That was right before the boom happened over in West Texas. I’ve learned my lesson.