Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Checking now would be gross, but I’m pretty sure my palms begin to sweat as I lift the fluffy, still-warm cookie to his moistened, thick lips.
Crew leans forward and takes nearly the entire thing into his mouth, the corner of his tongue sneaking out to help it along. He chews quickly, but his mouth is still half full when he adds, “Guess we’ll see,” before stuffing the phone in his pocket, his gaze never once leaving mine.
“Those mine?”
“You mean you haven’t heard?” I hold the clear plastic to my waistline, giving a little sideways pose. “Ziplocs are the new fanny packs.”
Crew nods in playful mockery, snagging the bag before I realize he’s reached out. “Maybe the comeback of the fanny pack isn’t the worst relaunch after all.” He digs in for another.
Nudging his shoulder with mine, I follow him to the door, slipping under his arm when he holds it open for me. The heavy metal slams with a loud smack behind us, making me jump. Short and shadowed in darkness, the area allows no outside light, and suddenly, I’m aware of the hard, wide chest pressing closer to my back.
“Thank you, Sweets. I like that you remember.”
His words, they’re so soft, almost as if he chose to wait until we were hidden in this small space to speak them.
“Of course, I do.” I don’t know why I whisper, but that’s what comes out, so I follow in a rush. “I mean, you only begged for these every day for an entire summer.”
“I didn’t have to beg, and you know it. You like making things for me.”
My lips pull to one side, but I try and hide the smile in my voice. “Maybe… maybe I only did it to prime you, so you’d help buy me beer until I turned twenty-one.”
“How’d that work out for you?”
I chuckle and the lights flick on up ahead, so I start walking forward. “Meh, you said yes once, so not a total loss.”
Crew scoffs as he slips past me. “Yeah, once out of too many is what you call a success.”
“Hey, I was the wonder woman that night, came to the rescue of several girls in my class, considering none of it was for me.”
He shakes his head and curves around the bar, quickly pouring two glasses of water. He sets one down in front of the stool I climb up on and downs half of the other before I’ve wrapped my fingers around my own.
“Seriously, thank you.” He taps on the cookie bag, going in for another. “I’ve missed your sweets.”
“You’re welcome.” I smile, willing my stomach to stop swirling at his omission.
Crew stares for several moments, quietly chewing before finishing off his glass and setting it somewhere behind the bar. And then he stares some more, all calm, cool, and collected, giving me nothing to go on.
“Are you going to make me guess or what are we doing here?”
His lips form a tight line, and he presses his forearms against the counter. “Impatient. Some things never change.”
“Oh please.” I give a dramatic eye roll. “Don’t act like you don’t know me or I don’t know you.”
“We’re not around each other every day anymore, Davis. There are a lot of things about you I don’t know, and plenty about me you don’t know.”
He leans forward in challenge, and I meet him with one of my own, fully prepared to prove him oh so wrong, but then I remember the other day, and the girl behind the front door I knew to be his. Clearly, it isn’t anymore, and while I didn’t go through his mail, I did peek at the envelope at the very bottom of the shoebox. The date on it was from November. It’s almost June.
Crew’s right. I don’t know everything about him anymore, and maybe I haven’t for longer than I realized. Sure, it’s been three years since I’ve seen him—not that him helping my dad move me into my apartment counts—but it’s been a lot longer than that since we shared a home, shared lives.
He and Memphis left for college my sophomore year of high school, and while they visited it wasn’t enough, and then after the summer before my senior year, it wasn’t at all.
Sadly, it was the same when I got here. My presence didn’t magically bring him back to me, if anything, the distance felt greater. We went from neighbors across a pond to oceans away from one another, or at least that’s how it felt.
But while I may not know him like I wish I did, like I used to and want to, and feel this deep, irrational need to, there’s not a whole lot about me left unsaid, the one and only thing I can think being my sad sex life and its lack of existence. I cleared that up quick, didn’t I?