Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
I wake up on Tuesday. I didn’t even know I slept for two days until I checked my phone and saw the messages. Two of them are from Nandy, which makes me sigh in frustration. She’s got a guy she wants me to meet. I love her, I do, but I’m so tired of this. I’m not ready. I don’t want a boyfriend. And what kind of guy would want a girl like me?
Maybe Irina from a few days ago could’ve pulled it off. But Tuesday morning Irina isn’t the same girl.
I don’t call Nandy back, but I do text her and tell her that I’ll see her on Sunday for drinks. I don’t mention the guy, so hopefully she takes the hint.
There are two messages from Dog. One of them is a text inviting me to come train, one of them is a voicemail asking if I’m all right. I have to admit, I’m a little touched by this last one because I don’t know this guy and he doesn’t know me, so why does he care?
He does care, though. I can hear it in his voice. “Irina. I don’t know what’s going on, but if I spooked you in some way, I’m sorry. Just come to the gym. Or let me buy you a coffee. At the very least, let me know you’re OK. I’m just…” His hesitation is real. He’s not from the Ring, but he knows about us. “I’m just worried I made a mistake.”
Then he hangs up.
His mistake was inviting Eason and those other guys to the gym that night.
The other message is from Eason. He leaves a voicemail. He sounds like he just woke up, but it came in at two in the afternoon, and he doesn’t come off as a guy who takes naps in the middle of the day, so I think this is just how he sounds. “I’ve been thinking about what you said”—what I said? I kind of laugh. That I want to kill people?—“and if that’s true, I think I can help you. But I’m not coming to you. You need to come to me.”
He didn’t call back and that was yesterday.
I take a shower, pull on a new pair of shorts and a clean t-shirt, and then I go out and run the beach, the same twenty miles, in the heat of midday.
I do this all week.
On Sunday, I wake up early and do the run again. I’ve got my time down to a little under three hours for the whole thing. Which is not great, but not bad for running on sand and just picking it up again after years of downtime. I’ve never timed myself before because in camp no one cared what your time was. We did care who finished first and even though I never did win that, I came in the top five lots of times. So I know I’m fast because I was running against the boys.
After my run, I shower and blow-dry my hair so it falls straight down my back like silk, looking at myself in the mirror for the first time all week. Most of my clothes are just shorts and shirts stacked on the floor, up against the wall, but I keep my uniforms and sundresses hung up in the little closet near the door.
I choose a yellow sundress that falls just above my knees and leave my place at seven forty-five. Nandy is waiting outside the bar we meet up at, looking like a princess in a pale lavender sundress that shows off her long, dark legs. When she sees me, she brightens up and I do too. “Well, look at you! Taking this whole thing seriously, aren’t you?”
We do a little air kiss, but when I pull back, I’m confused. “Taking what seriously?”
“The date.”
I make a face. “What date?”
She stomps her sandaled foot. “Irina! I told you I was setting you up with a guy tonight!”
“I never said yes, Nandy! No.” I look around, nervous, wondering if he’s here.
“Relax. I told them to meet us at eight-thirty. Not eight. So we had time to talk.”
“Them?”
“I’m dating his friend.”
“Nandy!”
“Oh, come on. You’re dressed up. Normally you show up in shorts. You look nice. Better than nice, actually. You look sexy.”
I look down at myself, then up at her. “I wasn’t going for sexy.”
“That’s why it’s so sexy, chica.” Then she winks at me. “Come on. ” She takes my hand. “Let’s get a drink to loosen you up. You don’t have to see him again. It’s one night of drinks and conversation.”
Despite my urge to run, there’s really no way out of this without looking like a freak. So I go in.
One night of drinks and conversation.
I can do it.
The guy is very handsome, I’ll give him that. His name is Joe, and he’s not an asshole. He doesn’t get too close to me, or ask me stupid personal questions, or, God forbid, try to kiss me. He tells stories. At first, he and Nandy’s guy—Rico—tell the stories together. They are best friends and have known each other since they were five, so they have a lot of stories. And they are fun stories. I find myself slightly fascinated at their very American upbringing.