Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Your life isn’t mine, and borrowing time hurts like hell. It also makes me feel shitty for being a burden. I can’t stand it.
I’m sure by the time you’re reading this, you’re annoyed as fuck. I get it. I took the coward’s way out. I don’t have any excuses, except I don’t wanna see the look on your face. I can take the anger, the annoyance, and a passionate rant about how stupid I am for turning down a warm place to sleep. And you’re right. But I can’t take what comes after. I don’t want to see you disappointed or hurt, because that impression will last longer with me than you will feel it.
In a few days, you’ll be relieved you don’t have to babysit me anymore. Your energy is better placed at the bar and on all the other people you’re helping. You’re young and have so much to look forward to, whether it’s getting drunk during work hours when the Hawks are losing or you’re settling down with someone one day. He better deserve you. (He probably won’t.)
I’m ashamed I couldn’t meet you at your level and be as generous as you have been with me. Thankfully, this is harder for me than for you, and that brings me comfort. I would never want to hurt you, although you deserve a smack upside the head for getting me attached.
If only I could live in a dream, huh?
Take care, kid.
Fuck it. It wasn’t gonna get any better than this. I was all over the damn place in this letter, but that was my life in a nutshell. I didn’t know if I’d gone too far in assuming he’d even give a shit I’d left. At the same time, I wanted him to know he’d made a big impact on me. Whether that was reciprocated was irrelevant—though, to be frank, I’d rather not witness an expression that told me, “Whoa, dude. We just screwed. No need to get all emotional on me.”
I folded the note, flicked off the lights over the sink again, and walked out carefully. I’d woken up about an hour or so after we’d fallen asleep, just to take a piss, and a single step on a creaky floorboard had roused him too. He’d asked where I was going.
Reaching the front room, I glanced over at the bed where Trace was asleep. The covers were riding low, barely covering his naked ass. Fucking hell, this hurt. Literally. I felt it in my chest. I just wanted to get back under the covers and feel his body against mine.
I had really fucked myself over with this one.
I unlocked the front door, all three locks, as silently as I could, and then I left the note on the duffel bag he’d given me yesterday. As sweet as his gesture was, I didn’t need to get robbed again. Everything else he’d given me was more than enough. New coat, clean clothes… I’d taken a few of the energy bars too.
Nerves spiked as I stepped out of the apartment and slowly closed the door. I threw a quick glance at the foldable bed in the alcove and knew I should’ve stayed there last night instead. But I hadn’t been able to resist.
I adjusted my beanie and took the stairs down, and I dug out my phone. No juice. I’d have to charge it when I got to Ma’s house.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ben O’Cleary
As I got off the train, I drew a deep breath and welcomed the feeling of stepping into a new world, far away from the Loop and Trace Kalecki. Elmwood Park might as well have been in another state. There were no skyscrapers, no dark alleys or gangways, no hordes of tourists and commuters. The streets were wider, everything was more open, and the community clung to their corner of the world being a village. A suburban village comprised mostly of single-family homes with two cars in the driveway.
I’d lived like that once upon a time.
So had Ma, for that matter. Now she was stuck in a tiny top unit of a two-flat.
A new day had started, and the people heading to work stood on the platform like zombies with their noses in their phones, waiting for the train to take them into the city.
Since it’d been a few days, I stayed on the north side of the tracks and headed east on Grand Avenue. There was no use in going directly to Ma’s, ’cause she’d just send me to the store with a list right away. Always similar items. Alvin had his food issues, and Ma cooked according to the season.
Besides, I needed to arrive with something. If I came empty-handed and delivered a bullshit lie about my car, Ma would clutch her pearls and go full-on neurotic on me, and she had enough health problems.