Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I didn’t know what it was about Lane. It wasn’t long after he’d moved in that I knew he was different, and not in the way I thought at first. Yeah, he was quirky and artsy and didn’t care what people thought. Those weren’t the things I was talking about.
It was the way he saw me, really saw me, when no one else did. The way he’d ask me if I was okay, when everyone else assumed I always was. How he’d told me I’d taken a back seat to my dad’s pain and buried my own. I mean, who the fuck talked like that at fourteen? Fifteen? But Lane had, and it felt…good.
I never had to be physically alone if I didn’t want to be. I was always busy with friends or involved in activities, but I’d felt emotionally lonely every day after Mom died, and maybe even before that. The only time I didn’t was—
“Boo!”
Speak of the devil. I turned at Lane’s voice coming from my bedroom doorway. My heart sprinted. God, I was so fucking crazy about this guy because the only time I didn’t feel emotionally alone was when I was with him.
In a dry monotone, I said, “Oh no. I’m so scared. Whatever will I do?”
“Asshole,” he teased, pushing his hair back, only for it to flop forward again. He still wore it longer than I ever did, this pile of curls and waves, a shade darker than a honey blond, dancing around his head. “This is our last summer at home before college. Can you believe it?”
Lane was heading to New York for art school. I was going to California, where my uncle and grandma lived.
It was something I’d done on purpose—tried to get as far away from him as I could because I’d already decided I was going to force myself to get over this ridiculous crush I had on my stepbrother.
I was leaving for school, and I planned to have sex with all the boys, safely and with their consent, of course, until I forgot about my little…issue. I couldn’t wait to have sex with a guy. Coming out when I was sixteen had really put a damper on my experience and sexual liberation. I’d been honest about who I was to feel more free, but I’d put myself into a really lonely box in some ways because there had been no other out boys at our school.
Lane nudged me when I didn’t respond. “I’m gonna miss you. It’s crazy because logically, I know it’s only been four years, but it’s like…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s like I don’t remember what my life was like without you.”
I didn’t know how he did that. The way he shared how he felt so easily. I did when he caught me in the right mood or if I’d been drinking, but Lane could do it at any time.
“Probably a whole lot more boring,” I told him.
“I don’t even hang out with you that much. You haven’t made my life more fun.”
“Yeah, right. Stop lying.” God, I would miss this. Miss talking to him and spending time with him. Miss him drawing or painting, and me just watching. It was ridiculous and a little gross the way I would do anything for him. Like, who the fuck watches someone paint? And he didn’t even know why and never could.
My dad and Helena would likely think I was disgusting.
The rest of our family probably would too.
“You going out with your friends tonight?” Lane asked.
“Yeah. Gotta chill with them while I can.” I stood up and walked toward the window, remembered four years ago when I stood in this same spot, sad that Dad had gotten married, and watched Lane sit alone in the grass in the corner of our backyard.
“You’ve been weird lately,” Lane said.
“You’ve been weird always,” I countered. I didn’t have to look behind me to know he was shaking his head.
“Wanna hear something crazy?” Lane asked. Something crazy to him was usually like…a really unique idea for a painting.
“Sure.” I shrugged.
“Amanda wants to have sex with me.” I whipped around to face him, and my shock must have shown on my face because Lane started laughing. “What? The thought of me having sex is that surprising?”
Amanda was his closest friend. And while Lane had grown into himself some over the years, he’d still never had a girlfriend, nor kissed anyone as far as I knew. He never really talked about sex the way other guys I knew did, and he was way more interested in his art and going off to college than hooking up or finding a girlfriend.
“Why?” I asked, not sure what else to say.
“Geez, maybe she thinks I’m hot. Maybe she likes me. I know it’s a shocker, but—”
“It’s not a shocker.” I like you in the most fucked-up way. I’m in love with you. “It’s just that you guys are friends. I never knew there was anything more to it than that.”