Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“I never had any clue what was going on with them,” my mom said with a shrug. “Put a shirt on, and you can walk with me.”
“What, you can’t stand the sight of your baby boy’s manly chest?” I joked. I laughed as she swatted at me, then leaned into the tent and grabbed the last shirt out of my duffle. Hopefully Heather wasn’t planning to light my dirty laundry on fire or anything, because she’d pretty much taken every piece of clothing I owned.
“I never knew what was happening with Micky,” my mom said after we’d been walking for a little while. She’d steered us toward the back of the property until we were walking outside the perimeter of scorched grass. “He was so sweet and he always seemed so transparent, but damn that boy was quiet.”
“Not with me,” I said, smiling. “Little shit never shut up.”
“Well, you were his best friend.” She slid her arm through mine and laid her head on my shoulder. “I was his mom. Boys don’t tell their moms anything.”
“Nah, Heather was his best friend,” I replied.
“Not true,” she protested.
“It was true,” I argued, still smiling. “I was cool with it. I was his brother. He could fart and scratch his balls when he was with me.”
Mom laughed.
“But he talked to her about shit. Stuff he didn’t want to talk to me about.”
“Like what?” she asked, glancing up at me.
“How the hell would I know?” I joked uncomfortably. “I just said he was talking to her, not me.”
“They were cute together,” she said with a grin. “He was so much bigger. It was like a bear and a bunny becoming friends.”
“Yeah. You remember the time out at the house when Mick kept tryin’ to get Heather to stand on his shoulders?”
“I thought she was going to slap him,” Mom said through her giggles.
“‘Come on, Heather, just once, just so I know we can do it,’” I mimicked Mick’s voice.
“‘If you come near me I’m going to hurt you,’” Mom imitated Heather.
I laughed at her perfect impression. Heather had been so offended by the entire thing and that had made it even funnier at the time. I’d always kept my distance when they were hanging out, but we’d all been around her a lot that year when she and Mick were connected at the hip. I’d seen the way she’d looked at him… but more importantly, I’d seen the way he wasn’t looking at her. He’d seen her as a friend, nothing more.
It was why I’d never tried to get in there. I wasn’t all that fired up to play the Hawthorne consolation prize. It really didn’t make any sense that I was screwing around with her now, but for the first time she wasn’t looking at me like the asshole older brother of her best friend. No, when Heather looked at me it always felt like she was picturing my ass naked.
“I hope the guys figure out what the hell we’re going to do,” my mom said with a sigh. “This is the longest lockdown we’ve had in over twenty years. I’m about to go nuts.”
“What, you don’t like living in a commune?” I asked, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.
“I miss my house,” she groaned as we headed back toward the clubhouse. “I want to be where the people aren’t.”
“Yeah, I hear ya,” I said.
“How’s your house coming?” she asked.
“Slow as hell.” I laughed.
It wasn’t common knowledge that I’d saved up and bought a condemned old house. The thing was unlivable and I didn’t really want to hear about how it was a waste of money, so I’d kept the news to myself.
I’d always liked to build things. Fix them up. Make old things like new again. It’s why I’d convinced Mick to pitch in on the 1972 Chevy Nova we’d bought when I was sixteen. He’d only been thirteen at the time, but between the two of us, we’d had enough cash to buy the old junker and slowly but surely we’d made her purr again. That was one of the benefits of helping out at a garage for years before you were actually legal to work. You got paid under the table, didn’t have anywhere to spend the money, and learned mechanics early.
Now that the Nova was finished it was parked at my parents’ house since I was usually on my bike, and I’d started a new project. The house was a disaster, no doubt, but that’s what I dug about it. I’d gotten it for dirt cheap, and I was able to fix it up on my own slow schedule since I was usually sleeping at the clubhouse anyway. The place had rotting floorboards, no toilets, no electricity, broken out windows, and I had to check on it a couple times a week to keep homeless people from camping out, but it was mine.