Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Holy effing effs.
“She was twenty-seven? And you were––”
“Underage,” he says, finishing for me. “It didn’t matter. Not then. We loved each other.” He shrugs, seeming lost in the memory. “Anyway, my senior year she just suddenly breaks up with me, out of nowhere. Nothing I said or did changed her mind. During winter break she transferred out of Stanford to Princeton and I never heard from her again.”
I am white-knuckling the steering wheel, my heart hammering inside my chest. It’s a good thing we’re on the Grapevine because all I can do is keep the car straight I’m so absorbed in his story.
“I got a phone call from her husband in September telling me they’d been in a car accident. She died on impact. He sustained serious injuries but eventually recovered…he said Beth had left a letter for me with her lawyer in the event that something happened to her.”
“W-W-What did the letter say?” I blurt out.
“It said that she loved me and didn’t want to leave but that someone in my family had threatened her. She could either take the hundred grand that was offered and leave or get reported.
“Her life would’ve been ruined. Jail time. The sex offender registry. Her teaching career would’ve been over…” He makes a pained face. “Anyway, I was sure it was my grandfather,” he continues in a low, flat tone, sounding even more dejected than ever. “He’s a manipulative motherfucker…I was positive it was him so I went to my Mom’s house for Thanksgiving to confront him, but he was no-show. Turns out, he was in the islands with his new twenty-year-old girlfriend.” He smiles bitterly. “Nice, right?” A dark chuckle.
“So w-what happened w-with your mom?”
“I was telling her about it, about Beth and about what my Gramps had done, and that’s when she confessed. It was her….She’s the one who drove away the only person who ever cared about me.”
I care about you. I care about you so much. The words are on the tip of my tongue and that’s where they stay. He doesn’t want to hear it. He made his feelings about us clear.
“And the worst part is that she was the only one I told. Brenda is a fuck-up of the highest caliber so it’s not like I was getting in trouble. She was barely sober back then anyway. She used to act like she was in on it. Like she was looking out for us…it was all a scam.”
We drive in silence for a few minutes, his anger and disappointment palpable. I steal a quick glance and find his profile perfectly still. Like he’s retreating to someplace far beneath his skin where the pain can’t reach him.
“I got in my car and I got the hell out of there. Then the accident…I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.”
“W-What about winter b-break? Christmas?”
His gaze drifts out the passenger window again, the barren landscape as bleak as the mood in the car. “I stayed home.” With his elbow leaning on the door handle, he drums his fingers.
“Alone?”
“I’m alway alone,” he absently murmurs.
The pain I feel for him is so acute I may as well be hardwired into his central nervous system.
“Get off on the next exit,” he orders. I’m too messed up to question why. I just do as I’m told.
Dallas
“W-Where are w-we going?”
Leaning into the steering wheel with her boobs pressed against it, the girl who’s been starring in every one of my dirty fantasies for the last few months slows the car down to look around. I point to the sign on the side of the road that says Welcome to Santa Cruz.
“I know, b-but where are w-we going?” Glancing sideways, she gives me a shy smile and the hole in my chest fills up.
She took me off guard with her question about Thanksgiving’s “Red Wedding,” as I’ve been calling it in the privacy of my own twisted thoughts. It felt good, though––to share it with someone. Nah, strike that––to share it with her. Dora is everything that is honest and good and real. Call me an expert of the subject; I’ve been around enough people that were fakes to know the difference.
I don’t have to pretend to be anything I’m not with her. I can just be––with no fear of it being used against me. Novel idea, not having to constantly defend yourself against the people who purport to care about you. There are only a handful of people I can say that about. Which makes me think of Rea. Makes me wonder if he’s found what he’s looking for.
“Do you need to be anywhere this week?”
She shakes her head.
Scratching my chin, I steal a few more glances at those beautiful breasts just because I can. “So technically we don’t have to go straight to San Fran…unless you want to.”