Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 116177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
The sleep timer I set on the TV must have lapsed because it shuts itself off right after that last goodnight text from Bobby, startling me. I sigh and push myself up off the couch, deciding to grab myself a quick glass of water from the kitchen.
Until Billy’s raised voice through their closed door catches my attention: “I’m not upset or anything, babe. It’s just that we—”
“I know, I know.”
The two of them have been chatting for a while, but with the TV now off and standing outside the door, I can hear them perfectly. The rest of the house is dead silent, save for crickets chirping outside and little gusts of wind disturbing nearby trees.
“We went through this last summer. One night turned into a week. I know your little brother misses you, I know he doesn’t like sleeping in the main house, but I don’t know if I can go another summer like this.”
“It wasn’t that bad …” murmurs Tanner.
“You don’t remember? We went a whole month without having sex. You gave Jimmy about twenty reasons to stay in his own room and he kept insisting to stay here. Not to mention him bringing Bobby by all the time. This place was like a frat house, and it’s your time off from school, and our time to be … Okay, I mean, I love your brother and all, and sure, maybe I can put up with some of his dance music blasting at midnight now and then—like it just was—but goodness, I’m gonna go crazy if he’s on that couch for another summer.”
“Billy, babe …”
“I know. I’m being so awful. I feel bad even saying it, but … ugh, I’m an awful husband.”
“Yeah, yeah,” taunts my brother back. “So awful. The worst.”
I hear the smacking of lips as they kiss. The springs of their bed creak gently from the movement of their bodies.
“It’s just for a night,” he says to Billy so softly, I barely hear it. “Just one quick little night.”
Then their lips smack again, the bed creaks some more, and I hear nothing else.
I drop back onto the couch and stare up at the ceiling, then throw their cuddly cow-print blanket over my body with my feet sticking out the other end. My heart sinks like a stone dropping slowly through the water to the bed of that dark, lonely lake out there, stared down upon by tall, watchful trees.
I whip my phone back out and send one last text to Bobby:
ME
Yo, can I crash at your place tomorrow?
3
BOBBY
The next day marks my first full day of summer.
And the only person I’m bothering to fill it with is my best buddy Jimmy Strong.
We hit up the only arcade in Spruce, which has been Jimmy’s favorite place in the world since he was thirteen. Even now, “JIMS” is at the top of every high score of every game—except for Mortal Kombat II, where some “TBOY” has stolen his top spot. So naturally we spend our time on that game for a solid hour while he reclaims his dignity from this T-Boy kid with a scowl on his face.
That gorgeous, determined scowl is where everything I love about Jimmy Strong starts. I watch him in his sleeveless red shirt and matching backwards cap while he vigorously kicks Sub-Zero’s ass, his sinewy arms flexing and tightening as he jams his fingers into the buttons and jerks the joystick every direction. His low-hanging, always-dusty jeans show off a hint of his shiny black underwear, visible because the back of his sleeveless shirt gathers atop his tight dancer glutes, and either Jimmy doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He’s always been one to show off what God’s given him.
But it all brings me back to that scowl of his. When he’s got his eye on something, a fierce look of unflinching determination takes him over, and he doesn’t let go until the job is done. He is the most committed guy I know, which I do understand is ironic to say about your best friend who’s had no less than ten girlfriends in his first two years of college. And those are just the ones I know about.
I’ve always admired Jimmy’s strength, ever since the day he came out as a dancer, then worked his tight tushie off to prove his worth on the stage in spite of insecure male mockery.
And damn, phew, even off the stage he proves it. He’s proving it right now with every twist and thrust of his hip at the arcade game; even the way he games looks choreographed. And once he finally gets his high score back and we leave the arcade, he proves it with just the way he walks, so full of pride and swagger, it makes anyone walking with him feel just as proud. He proves it in the shape of his legs and how they carry his weight with such grace, despite his country-boy, roughed-up, dust-worn appearance.