Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
I cruise past my favorite pine tree with a base of branches that spreads out wider than my parents’ living room, and see the trail where cross country skiers will be traveling in a couple of months. I speed into the quiet neighborhood of homes far bigger than Dylan’s or Hawke’s, and even though I was jealous of their neighborhoods and the close-knit surroundings, my home never felt any less cozy. And for a long time, it was just as happy.
I see the lanterns flickering at the end of my parents’ driveway and pull over to the side of the road, turning off the car.
I get out and gaze across the street at the house my dad grew up in and his kids grew up in. A light dims and brightens again on the second floor, A.J. probably watching TV, while more rooms glow downstairs.
Kade’s truck is parked in the driveway. It was ours, but it was always his. My parents are probably home, but they tuck their cars away in the garage.
Taking out my phone, I dial my brother.
It rings three times, and I think he might avoid me, but then the line picks up.
He doesn’t say anything.
Neither do I. For a moment.
When I do, my voice is calm. “Sorry we missed you tonight,” I tell him.
“That’s okay.” His tone is steady. Sincere. “You were busy.”
I wait. Kade is almost always cocky. Full of words and a tone that leaves no room for mistake that he’s on top.
Now, he sounds like he did when we were younger. When we used to make tents with our blankets in the basement and work on our superhero gadgets, just the two of us.
We were nine. But it was great.
“You need to talk to Dad to make sure Dylan doesn’t get into trouble for what your friends did in the school tonight.”
“No need,” I reply. “Farrow took care of it.”
“Green Street.”
“Yeah.”
Rumor is that a Shelburne Falls cop is the true leader of Weston’s gang, and Farrow has his ear. The police will chalk it up to Rivalry Week shenanigans.
But the Pirates are coming. Kade won’t warn me. He won’t goad me. He’ll just come.
I hate to admit it, because the football game is more important, but I want him to. I want to see him.
Just then, a figure appears in his bedroom window, and I don’t know if he knows I’m outside, but I doubt he can see me in the dark.
“You know,” he says. “I can’t see you doing it in the shower.”
I blink, looking down for a moment. For a few minutes, I’d forgotten about the picture Calvin posted.
“I’m actually impressed,” he tells me. “I always thought you’d arrange a fancy hotel room and give them flowers and shit before a monotonous two-minute missionary fuck on starched sheets.”
Watching his dark form standing in the window, I breathe in the night air. Slow. And steady.
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
His voice turns taunting.
“It’s easy to forget when she starts talking,” he teases, “but she always comes when she’s called. That’s what I love about Dylan.”
I bite down, hard.
“Thanks for those handcuffs, by the way.” I almost hear him grin. “That was a fun night.”
He’s lying.
But she kept the handcuffs.
“Don’t believe me?” he taunts. “Ask her if she slept in her own bed that night. See what she says.”
I squeeze the phone in my fist.
“Ask her,” he tells me again.
Dylan
I pop my eyes open, my heart skipping a beat.
I stare at my bedroom ceiling, frozen.
I swear I heard furniture moving up there.
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I glance to the window and see the tree outside dancing wildly in the wind. Branches swing and leaves flutter, a few orange ones flying off into the air.
The floor above creaks, and I draw in a short, quick breath. And then I hear it again and again.
Back. And forth.
Back. And forth.
The chair rocks over and over, and I exhale. But the chills on my spine don’t go away. That wasn’t the sound I heard that woke me up. It was like something being pulled across the floor. It only lasted two seconds, but it was a heavy sound. Different.
My phone rings, and I glance, seeing my mom calling. I grab it, noticing a ton of notifications, as well.
I open a text from Aro.
Happy Birthday! Wanna bet I can get to Weston tonight?
I suck in a breath and smile. It’s Thursday. It’s my birthday. For real, how did I forget?
Which is why my mom is calling. I send her to voicemail and tap out a text.
Got to get to school! HB to me! Talk soon. Love you!
She replies, Happy Birthday! One of your presents is on your debit card. Enjoy.
Yay, money. Thank you. Talk soon.
After school, she insists. We miss you. Have a great day! Remember, you can go to prison now, so watch it.