Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Rayanne smirked and Day nodded that single nod.
“I was wondering if Ash and Greta were the only queers on the island.”
“Well,” Rayanne said conspiratorially and leaned in.
Day cleared her throat.
“Oh right, damn, that’s a secret. Never mind. Uh, Greenland sharks can live up to five hundred years.”
“Were you reading that book on oceanography that Don and Maisey keep trying to get rid of?” Ash asked.
“Yeah. They put it on the dictionary stand, so my facts will be ocean-related for the next while.”
Truman’s head was spinning.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Did you tell them we were…?” he asked Ash, surprised.
Ash shook his head. “Nope.”
“Then how’d you—?”
Rayanne rolled her eyes again. “Oh, dear heart, it’s all anyone’s talking about!”
Day closed her eyes in what might have been apology or mortification.
Truman didn’t have a response to that, so instead he said, “When’s good for y’all to do the event?”
Rayanne and Day exchanged a speaking glance.
“We’ll need some time to spread the word and put it all together. If we want anyone from the mainland to come, we’ll wanna wait till after New Year’s. No one comes out the week before Christmas, and all the local ads are sold months in advance,” Rayanne said. While she spoke, she eased the purloined cigarette out of Day’s pocket and flipped it to her lips. “We could do the first weekend after New Year’s,” she suggested. Then she knelt again, pushed open the window, and lit the cigarette, and Day did nothing to stop her.
“The first one could be a trial run for Valentine’s Day,” said Day.
“Oh, shit, of course,” Ash said. “It’s my biggest selling holiday,” he told Truman.
“Makes sense. January, huh? Aw, I guess I’ll miss it.”
Because Truman was looking at Ash, he saw his words hit with tangible effect. Ash blinked his reaction away quickly, but Truman had seen it nonetheless.
It was the first time his impending departure had come up in conversation. Had he actively avoided mentioning it? Not consciously, but he could see now that he had. He hadn’t wanted to do anything that would pop the perfect bubble that he and Ash were living in.
Ash cleared his throat, clearly searching for a response.
“We’ll send you pictures,” Rayanne said. She slung an arm around Ash’s shoulder from her elevated perch. Her platinum curls got in his face, and he smiled and tugged one. Then he stole her cigarette, took a drag, and handed it back.
“Okay, well, glad you’re on board,” he said. He squeezed Day’s shoulder and sketched a wave.
“Bye,” Truman said, following him. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yup,” Rayanne said. Day simply nodded.
Flustered, Truman tripped out into the night after Ash.
“Wow. They’re a strange couple,” he said. “Have you known them long?”
“Yup. Rayanne was my student teacher one year.”
Truman struggled to place Rayanne in the context of children. Or school. “Really?”
“Yeah. Well, not the whole year. She quit after a semester because she hated everything about it.”
Truman laughed. “And Day. Man, she’s super intimidating.”
“I know. I’ve always had such a crush on her.”
Truman raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? That’s what does it for you: intimidation?”
Ash winked, but the silence between them as they walked back to Thorn felt heavy with uncertainty. Truman wasn’t sure if acknowledging it would help or make it worse, but if he’d learned anything lately it was that it was better to say things than not say them.
“Listen,” Truman said. “The thing I said about me not being here…”
Ash sighed and ran a gloved hand through his hair. “I know you’re leaving,” he said. It sounded almost neutral. If Truman hadn’t seen Ash cry over his mother, whisper his desires, or play goofy games with Bruce, he might have believed he didn’t care. But Truman had seen those things, so he knew. Ash cared. He cared a lot. And Truman cared too.
“Okay,” he began.
But there was nothing, really, left to say.
A Message from Ramona
RAMONA to TRUMAN CUTIE
It’s tempting to believe our own stories about ourselves more than the reality. Don’t be so caught up in your own shit you can’t smell the roses.
Chapter 24
Truman
Truman was taking a bath the next night when someone rang the bell. He hadn’t seen Ash all day, and he jumped out of the tub and swaddled himself in one of Greta’s fuzzy towels to answer the door.
Ash stood, shivering, on the front porch.
“Come in, come in,” Truman said, instantly regretting his choice of garb when the cold blasted through him.
“You were in the shower? Sorry,” Ash mumbled.
“The bath. I was just reading and soaking. No problem. I’m glad to see you.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course yeah.”
Ash nodded, arms wrapped around himself, but stood just a step inside the door, making no move to come farther inside.
“I’m gonna just put some clothes on. Sit down, okay?”
Truman dashed into the bedroom and pulled on sweats and his heavy sweater, scrubbed the towel through his cold, wet hair, and went back into the living room to find Ash in the same spot he’d left him.