Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Same could be said about Irie …” I remind her, though she’s well aware of the fact that my mother was going through some Rastafarian phase when she was pregnant with me. The word “irie” means “good, excellent, all right,” which is exactly how she felt when she held me in her arms the first time.
She was also probably high on drugs in that moment too.
“Talon’s father is a famous architect. Did I tell you that?” I ask.
“No, you didn’t.”
“We actually studied him in school,” I say.
“Seems like you’re really hitting it off with this guy. Have to say, Irie, I’m pleasantly surprised.”
“You and me both,” I say. “Though you may have scared him off with the pizza and candles. Don’t think I don’t know what you were trying to pull …”
Bette chuckles. “There’s no scaring off a guy who looks at you like you hung the moon—or the stadium lights.”
“I can’t believe you invited him to Lauren’s wedding, by the way. Totally didn’t see that one coming.”
She waves a limp hand. “I’m sorry, but one of us needs to keep things interesting around here. You and I both know the wedding’s going to be a complete snooze fest.”
“You don’t think you should have asked first? They’re going to freak if I just show up with some random guy.”
“Let them freak.” Bette rolls her eyes. “They freak all the time at church, do they not?”
I stifle a laugh. No disrespect to God or anything, but it’s impossible to keep a straight face at their church when the pastor busts out the snakes and tambourines.
“And Lauren,” Bette says, “one look at Talon and she’s going to be green with envy. I’ve only met Jack a couple of times, but I’ve never met anyone so dreadfully dull. They make a perfect couple though. I’ll give them that. They’ve certainly found their match.”
I think back to my cousin, who’s always taken her competitiveness with me to impressive levels. If I mentioned getting an A on an English test, she’d immediately mention the A+ she got in AP English the year before. If I said I went to bed early the previous night, she’d brag about how she always went to bed early and all the reasons why it made her so perfect at everything she ever did.
After a while, it became a game to me. I’d make shit up just to mess with her, and then I’d call her out on her lies in front of everyone.
She grew to hate me.
Which was probably why I’d never seen her so thrilled the day the entirety of our Iron Cross high school turned against me our senior year. It was like she’d won the lottery and a lifetime membership to Disneyland. She was straight up giddy for months after, even sneaking her way into my old circle of friends, filling the void I left with her perfect blonde bob and prissy little strut.
I shudder thinking back to that time in my life, how it seemed it would never end. It just kept going on and on, a teenage personal hell.
My stomach twists when I think about setting foot in Iron Cross again. I haven’t so much as visited since they put me on a plane and shipped me out here the summer after my senior year. If it weren’t for the fact that Aunt Bette really wants to go for some insane reason and can’t travel alone, I’d have RSVP’d to Lauren’s wedding with a drawing of a middle finger.
I dry the final dish and place it on the rack next to the sink before sliding my phone from my back pocket, checking my email out of habit.
My heart skips two beats
TO: davenport.irie@pvucampusmail.edu
FROM: gold.talon@pvucampusmail.edu
SUBJECT: Tonight
MESSAGE: Seeing as how we’re technically dating now … I think it’s only fair you finally give me your number. See you @ 7. ~Tal
I wouldn’t say we’re technically dating, but I will say that exchanging numbers might not be the worst thing in the world at this point—if only for convenience purposes.
I fire back a quick message that contains nothing more than my phone number, and then I head to my room to start getting ready for tonight.
I have no idea how he can possibly top last weekend, but I kind of can’t wait to find out …
Talon isn’t at all what I expected. He’s endearing and polite, attentive and generous. Part of me is pleasantly surprised. The other part of me is wishing I was right about him from the start because it’d make resisting him a walk in the park.
It would make the butterflies in my middle fly away.
I think I’m falling …
Maybe …
Sort of …
Just a little …
Chapter 22
Talon
I refresh my email for the twelfth time before I finally see it.
TO: gold.talon@pvucampusmail.edu
FROM: davenport.irie@pvucampusmail.edu
SUBJECT: Re: Tonight
MESSAGE: 555 – 0797