Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I wish I could trust him, either of them.
“Last time, it was just a party.” I make air quotations with my fingers in front of his face. “And you ended up forcing me to suck your brother’s dick.”
“I made you come too. Don’t forget that part.”
“I’d like to forget that whole night, actually. We don’t always get what we want. Which is happening to you right now because I’m not coming down for dinner.”
What the fuck are they up to this time?
“All right, let me rephrase the question.” Colt raises his hands and mirrors my air quotations as he speaks. “Get your ass downstairs. We are having dinner together like a fucking family.”
My molars grind together so violently that there is a one in three chance I’m about to crack a tooth. “I’ll be down in a minute,” I grit through my teeth. Fucking asshole.
It’s almost surprising when he doesn’t demand I follow him right away. He only saunters off, hands in his pockets.
What are they doing? There has to be something behind this. I hate how paranoid I’ve become, but I have to be. Not that it’s ever gotten me very far, though.
It would be foolish to accept this at face value, so I don’t. I’m on my guard as I walk down the stairs. Nix and Colt are talking, and I hear what sounds like paper bags rustling on my way to the kitchen. I can’t help but imagine opening a container full of maggots or a dead rodent or something. That’s how far they’ve sent me spiraling.
But no, it’s the aroma of garlic and tomatoes I pick up as I draw closer to the kitchen. By the time I get there, the guys are already taking seats around the island in the center of the room. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want,” Colt explains. “But you seemed to like it that one night when we had chicken parmesan for dinner, so that’s what I ordered for you. Pasta, garlic bread.”
Nix grunts with his mouth full, gesturing to the other containers strewn across the island’s surface. “There’s other stuff here, too. Sausage and peppers, eggplant. Some salad.”
And it looks completely normal. My stomach is growling, my mouth is watering, and I wish I could enjoy this wholeheartedly. “Thanks for thinking of me,” I murmur sarcastically as I take a seat, grabbing for plastic utensils and napkins.
“We’re assholes, but we’re not complete assholes,” Colt assures me. I cut into my chicken, keeping my eyes lowered. We clearly have very different ideas about that.
“So you were saying earlier that you want to be a teacher?”
I glance up at him and nod, swallowing. Is that really how we’re going to do this? Simply make small talk like nothing ever happened? When Colt keeps staring at me, expecting an answer, I decide to play along. “Yeah, that’s the idea.”
“Do you have your classes set up yet for this semester?” Nix asks.
I can’t figure out how such seemingly innocent questions could be used against me, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to take any of this at face value. “Yeah, but right now, it’s your basic core classes. Math, psychology, stuff like that.”
“I’d want to get all that stuff out of the way.” Nix spears a sausage link from one of the containers and takes a bite without bothering to cut into it. “I hate math.”
Colt snorts, and it almost sounds like he’s about to choke on his food. “Maybe Leni should give you some tutoring.”
The very thought sends a chill down my spine. “So long as it’s elementary or middle school level. When you start getting into trig and calculus, I have a little bit of trouble, too.”
“I always hated algebra,” Colt grumbles. Nix mutters his agreement.
Is this really happening? It’s almost like we’re three people having a normal conversation.
“Elementary education is sort of generalized, but if I had to pick a focus, I think I’d want to be a history teacher,” I decide after taking another big bite of the chicken. It’s delicious, cooked perfectly, and the pasta is al dente. Sometimes, I don’t like pasta from takeout restaurants since it can be overcooked and watery, but this is delicious. I’m glad I came down now.
“History is just, like, memorizing stuff. Dates and whatnot.”
“It can be,” I agree, nodding to Nix. “But I like being able to piece events together. Like this war happened because of this and that from a hundred years earlier. When you look at it that way, it’s actually really fascinating. Getting a feel of the big picture. I’m sure kings were out there making decisions they couldn’t imagine would lead their country to war in a hundred years, you know?”
“What did they care? They’d be dead by then, anyway.” Nix always has a way of cutting to the heart of something.