Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Because that’s fucking common knowledge.
My parents walk in ahead of me, and I linger in the doorway watching my family for a moment, logging all the stark similarities between them. Mom’s and Ava’s eyes. Oliver’s and Dad’s hair. Dad’s and Uncle Erik’s nose. These tangible connections between them.
As a scientist, I understand the significance of DNA. Blood. The invisible threads that connect you to another human being. The reminder that individuality, while a gift, is also an illusion of sorts, because beneath its surface is a deep, biological connection that links you to something bigger than yourself. Something tracing back generations.
It’s stupid of me, I know, to care so much about all this. It doesn’t matter whether my family and I share a common genetic code.
They’re my family.
They’ve always been nothing but loving and supportive, and I feel like a monster for the thoughts that run through my head sometimes. For the irrational fears that poke holes in the trust I know I should have in them and for the insecurities that push me to question their love.
But I owe it to myself and to Harrison to get to know him. And maybe I need to do that without involving my family right now. Maybe I need to go into this new relationship with a clear head and heart.
I walk into the family room, my legs trembling, and everyone looks up as I enter, smiles lighting their faces.
“Come sit,” my mother says. “Us girls need our team captain.”
I smile back and take a seat next to my sister. I push aside all the thoughts plaguing my brain. The philosophical musings about DNA and belonging and whether my parents love me.
I don’t need to have my mother’s nose or be ambidextrous like my father for them to love me. I know they do. I feel it.
So I push away the insecurities and focus on enjoying the holiday with my family.
Later that night, I curl up in my childhood bedroom and take in the familiar surroundings. I was always a little extra when it came to the posters on my walls. No masking tape on the corners for Charlotte, thank you very much. All my posters are framed. Even the one of Mollie May, which shows her at age sixteen during her first live concert. I was obsessed with her when she first hit the scene. She’s in her early twenties now, and I’m still sort of obsessed. Her last album slayed.
My phone buzzes with a text. I take one look and let out a groan of distress.
They started a group chat.
I rub my forehead and roll onto my back, wishing there were an easy answer to my Will and Beckett predicament. I haven’t stopped thinking about that night. The memory of it swarms my thoughts at least once an hour. God. The sex was mind-blowing.
But…mind-blowing sex isn’t a good enough reason to feel bad about myself again.
I’m about to delete the message, but curiosity wins out. Groaning softly, I give myself permission to read the words on the screen.
BECKETT:
Hey. It’s Beckett. Will gave me your number, so I’m creating this group chat. But I promise this will be the only message in here, unless you want more. I just wanted to say—it really upsets me that you feel shame because you didn’t do anything to be ashamed of. I—we—loved every second of being with you. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, exciting. I could write an entire paragraph about how incredible you are. Which says a lot, because I don’t usually do this sappy shit, as Larsen can attest. Don’t judge yourself for having a good time. Fuck what the rest of the world thinks and the people who might judge you. Your wild, fearless side is my favorite thing about you. You’re beautiful inside and out, Charlie. Never forget that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHARLOTTE
Unfamiliar world
ON THE TUESDAY BACK ON CAMPUS AFTER THANKSGIVING, I DO THE unthinkable.
I skip class.
Classes plural, in fact. I’m not only bailing on Climate Policy, but I’m not planning on attending my engineering lab either. Beckett’s message has been haunting me for days. I don’t want to see him or Will today. My emotions are too raw.
And what better balm for the affliction of raw emotions than lunch with the biological brother you never knew existed until a month ago?
Maybe I should have just gone to class.
But it’s too late to back out now. Harrison is already waiting for me outside Della’s Diner when I round the building from the parking lot. He’s bundled up in a black down jacket and plaid scarf, his cheeks reddened by the frigid wind. When I approach, he greets me with a tentative smile.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
We stand there for a moment, eyeing each other. This is…a lot more awkward than I anticipated.
“Should we go inside?” Harrison finally asks. The amused note in his voice cuts through some of the discomfort.