Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
My dad’s death feels like a bruise, tender when I bump it unwittingly but otherwise dormant. I’m not sure if that’s how I should feel or not, but I’m trying to take a page out of Rex’s book and decide that I’m supposed to feel however I feel.
It’s Colin I’m worried about. Colin I can’t stop worrying about. He never returned my call, but I’m not really surprised. I mean, he’s been gay all this time and never called me before. It’s not like I think he’s psyched to bond over it or anything.
I work in the library until I realize Rex has left a message to ask if I want pasta or chicken for dinner and it hits me in a rush that, for the first time, I have things structuring my time other than the time the library closes or the amount of juice left in my laptop battery. It’s still a little strange to remember that if I worked all night, Rex would miss me. It’s even stranger to realize that I would miss him. I’ve only stayed at my apartment one night since we got back to Michigan, and it felt… depressing. Lonely. I don’t want to look around for another place, though, because what if I get the Temple job? It’s a long shot, I know, but Virginia seemed to think I have a real chance.
I haven’t been letting myself think about that, though, because thinking about it means thinking about leaving Rex, and thinking about leaving Rex makes me feel like I’m going to puke. I know he said we’d have time to talk about it, but I haven’t brought it up.
I text back Chicken as my stomach growls, in the vague hopes that maybe he means the roasted chicken that he’s made before.
I make a quick stop at Mr. Zoo’s because I’ve had Republica stuck in my head all day and am hoping I can pick up a used copy.
“Are you always here?” I ask Leo as I approach the counter. He looks up from a book that he tries to hide under the counter before I can see it. “Whatcha reading?” I say casually.
“Oh, noooothing,” he sighs. He looks tormented.
“Leeeooo,” I whine back at him, “what are you reeeeading?”
Miserably, he holds up a thick book printed on the kind of newsprint that can only mean…. Yup, it’s Conquering the College Application in Ten Easy Steps.
“That’s great, man,” I say. “I know you said you wanted to get out of here, but I didn’t know you wanted to go to college.”
“You don’t think I should go?”
“Uh, that’s really not what I just said, is it?”
“No.” Leo slumps on the counter.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?” I ask, pretty sure the answer is spelled W-I-L-L.
“Nothing,” Leo sighs, clearly delighted I’ve asked.
“Oh. Okay, then,” I say. “Do you have—”
“Ugh!” Leo exclaims, looking up at me. “Will’s gone.” He’s pouting and he looks genuinely miserable.
“I know, man, I’m really sorry. I know you liked him. God knows why,” I add under my breath.
“Thanks,” Leo sighs. “Oh my god, shit! Shit! I’m so sorry. I’m complaining about—and—I’m so, so sorry about your dad.”
Leo looks horrified, his eyes huge, the lovesick sulk immediately replaced by sympathy.
I nod. “Thanks. Listen,” I say, not wanting to talk about it, “have any Republica?”
“Um, I dunno, I never heard of them,” Leo says. “Go ahead and look, though.”
I do and they don’t. I look at a few other things, keeping track of Leo out of the corner of my eye. He’s back to reading his book, cheek in hand, but he’s sighing pitifully again.
“Leo,” I say, and he drags puppy dog eyes up to meet mine. “You want some help with those applications? Or with your essay or something?”
“Really? Oh, man, that’d be so great. I don’t even know where I want to apply, or what I need to do.”
“Okay. Are you working on Saturday?” He shakes his head. “Why don’t you come over to Rex’s around noon? Or, wait, my apartment?” I probably shouldn’t just be inviting people over to Rex’s, should I? “Shit, no,” I say, picturing the state of my apartment and the approximately 200 library books that seem to have taken up permanent residence on the table Rex built. “Rex’s house. Okay?”
“Uh, okay. Just text me if you change your mind,” he says, looking at me like I’m nuts. “Again.”
I give him the finger and a wave and head to Rex’s.
“OH, FUCK me, it is the roast chicken,” I mutter, the smell hitting me as soon as I walk in the door.
“Well, you’re easy,” Rex says, coming out of the kitchen. He pats me on the ass as I sling my bag onto the floor and pulls me in for a kiss when I stand up.
“Mmm, smells so good,” I say, kissing his neck. “The chicken smells good too,” I say against his ear.