Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
He really is so handsome. What is he doing working here and not acting in movies or something? Every girl at my school would have a poster on their wall if they made one of him.
My heart is racing as I get closer. My nose fills with the smells of the garage, which are pretty awful really, but I barely even notice them as I step up to Grant, who is looking down at me from above. I didn’t notice just how tall he was until now, but he towers over me like a giant, brilliant green eyes sparkling down at me.
“Hello there,” he says. His voice is so deep and so strong.
“Um…hi,” I manage to squeak out.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“A-Allie.” Oh, great. I’m stammering. And to make matters worse, I can hear Samantha and McKenzie giggling behind me.
“Is there something I can do for you, Allie–?”
“W-would you like to be my date to the dance on Friday?”
I realize I haven’t even been polite and asked him his name yet, but I just blurt it out. I have to, or I’m never going to ask him.
He looks at me oddly for a second, cocks his head to the side, and then asks, “How old are you, Allie?”
“I’m twelve.”
Grant purses his lips and just sort of nods slowly. One of the other men working at the garage behind him stifles a laugh, but Grant waves a hand at him. “Twelve,” Grant repeats. “Do you know how old I am, Allie?”
I shake my head slowly. “No.”
“Okay, well, I’m nineteen, Allie,” he replies. “I don’t think it would be…appropriate for me to go to the dance with you.”
My heart sinks like a truck driving straight into a river. I can hear McKenzie and Samantha’s giggles break into full-blown laughter behind me. Grant looks past me at them and steps up close to me and whispers, “I think somebody is playing a bit of a joke on you, Allie.”
I nod, realizing what’s happened here. “Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“But don’t worry,” he says, leaning up against me in a kind, friendly type of way. “Don’t worry, Allie. If you were my age, I’d be happy to go to a dance with you.”
“Thanks,” I say, hanging my head. Feeling completely deflated, I turn around and walk away from him.
“So what’d he say?” laughs McKenzie, but I just keep walking past her and Samantha and continue on my way home myself, ignoring both of them as they trail behind, still giggling at their little joke.
“You guys gonna slow dance together?” Samantha calls after me.
How could I have been so stupid? Well, at least I learned a valuable lesson today. A valuable lesson about trust and where to place it.
1
Allie
Seven years later…
I look down at the wedding invitation in my hand. Part of me, a large part, can’t believe it.
“You are cordially invited…” I mutter.
“You’re going, right?” My roommate Trish asks for the third time. For some reason, Trish is super excited about weddings and is jealous that I’m being invited to one and she’s not.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “It’s McKenzie’s wedding.”
“So?”
“So McKenzie is…” My voice trails off, and I twist my lips to the side. “Let’s just say she and I have a bit of a strange history. I’m not even sure why she’s even inviting me to be honest.”
“Oh, come on,” Trish scoffs. “She wants you to be a bridesmaid!”
“I know!” I reply. “That’s why I think it’s a trick or something!”
I toss the invitation aside and go flop down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. Trish goes and picks it up and looks at it. “A trick? Come on, what are you talking about?”
“Well, let me tell you about this hot guy named Grant.”
I quickly recount to her the little practical joke she and Samantha played on me back in middle school. When I’m finished, I can see the understanding in her eyes. She sets the invite on my desk and takes a seat.
“Oh,” she says flatly.
“Yeah, exactly.” I nod. “Oh. Let’s just say that event seriously dampened my ability to trust people after that.”
“I can understand why,” Trish replies. “Is that why you…”
“Haven’t had a boyfriend yet?” I ask, finishing her sentence. “Yes. That’s pretty much why.”
There’s a sudden, unexpected knock at the door. I glance over at Trish, but she just shrugs and looks at me. I shake my head, then get up and go open the door to find a delivery man standing there holding something very long and drapey in one hand and a tablet in the other.
“Allie Wilson?” he asks.
“Um…yes?”
“Delivery for you,” he replies, holding out the tablet to me. “If you could just sign here.”
“I have a delivery?”
“Just sign here, please,” he says, clearly in a hurry. I do as he says and scribble something, and he quickly hands me over whatever it is he’s got in his hand that’s attached to a hanger. “Thank you. Have a great day.”