Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
The lies we tell ourselves daily.
“It’s bothering you,” Dad mentioned.
“It’s not,” I said through clenched teeth. How could Mom forget to tell me that? Seemed like a big fact to misplace. She was able to tell me all about the importance of organic products and about how the small-town dog Skipp just went through hip surgery, but she somehow forgot to drop the bomb that the place I was staying was the same place Hailee managed and lived?
I doubted it was due to her forgetful mind. If I knew one thing about my mother, it was her love for love. She probably had it somewhere in her mind that if Hailee and I reconnected, some old love story would resurface. A second chance romance of sorts.
Not a chance in hell. Hailee Jones and I would never be endgame. She killed all possibilities of that when she crushed my soul.
“Guys, you must come try this flavored water the inn has! Mr. Lee added pomegranates!” Mom hollered, breaking us away from the conversation of Hailee. We headed downstairs, went out to lunch, and talked about everything under the moon except for Hailee. Yet being back in town and knowing she worked at the inn was eating at my mind. Knowing that she was working at the inn unlocked an avalanche of connections we once shared. Everything around me reminded me of her. Hailee was soaked in every aspect of the small town that raised me. From the candy shop on the corner of Riley Street that we broke into freshman year to Cole’s Ice Cream Shoppe where she’d eat only the bottom of her cones.
Every single inch of Leeks reminded me of Hailee.
She was now freshly on my mind.
25
Hailee
* * *
“I told you I wasn’t going to that festival, Kate.” I’d been reading my newest book in my apartment for the past few hours since I’d gotten off work, and Kate was determined to pull me away from my introverted ways.
“You told me you had to work,” she replied, plopping onto my couch. “But I just saw Mr. Lee, and he told me you had the evening off, like the rest of the staff due to the festival, and that he was running the front desk.”
I groaned. “Mr. Lee talks too much.”
She reached across to me and shut my book. “Get off your bum. We’re going to the festival. It will be fun! They have all kinds of rides and stuff.”
“It’s a festival dedicated to my ex-boyfriend. Why don’t you see why that’s weird?”
“Oh, I see why it’s weird, but there’s deep-dish pizza and fried cheese. I’d go into a dungeon with all my exes for some deep-dish pizza and fried cheese.”
“I guess we all have our limits,” I joked. I went to reopen my book, and she slammed it closed.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love a good romance book, thanks to you getting me addicted. But hear me out. How about for the next few hours, you stop reading about fictional characters living life and start actually living your life?”
My nose scrunched up. “Tempting, but where’s the fun in that?”
“I’m glad you asked.” She stood and walked to the backpack she brought over. She unzipped it and pulled out two matching forty-ounce black Yeti water bottles. She handed one to me.
“Don’t tell me this is a mixed drink.”
“It’s not. Drink it.”
I took a sip and cringed.
“It’s straight vodka! It’s not mixed at all!” She laughed. She reached into her backpack and pulled out a jug of lemonade. “Now we mix it.”
I should’ve known. “Or we can just read books about people getting drunk.”
“Hailee. We’re in our twenties. Soon enough after your gap year, you’ll be in getting your masters followed by your PhD, and you’ll have babies and crap, and your life will become packed with baby vomit and dirty diapers. So, we have to live in the moment. You have to get drunk on a Saturday night with your friend. Plus, I never have Saturdays off, so this is a very rare, unique occasion, and my boyfriend is busy tonight.”
“You don’t have a boyfriend.”
She pouted and whined. “I know, which makes this so much more depressing. I heard some local band is headlining the stage with their country music tonight.”
“It’s like you’re trying to get me not to go,” I joked.
“Come on, Hailee. This is our Coachella.”
“You do realize how sad that is, right?”
“We live in Leeks, Wisconsin. Sad is our middle name. Which is why we must take every good moment, grab it by the balls, and milk that sucker until the cows come home. What do you say? Let’s get drunk, go to a festival dedicated to your ex-best-boyfriend by a town of lunatics, and ride the Tilt-A-Whirl?”
I smirked. “Stop with the puppy dog eyes.”
“I can’t until you say yes,” she whimpered, nudging me in the arm with the bottle of lemonade.