Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Julie laughs. "Less direct than DTF."
"Yeah, but men like to be romanced a little too," I say. "How would you feel if someone you like texted DTF?"
"Am I horny?" Julie asks.
"Sure," I say.
"It does feel like a mass message. Do they want me? Or anybody who will show up at their apartment? Yeah, I guess you're right. It's best to be direct in a flirty way," Julie says.
"He crossed the 405 for me," Imogen says.
Julie stares at her blankly.
"You'll get it when you live in LA," Imogen says.
"Live in LA? Fat chance," Julie says. "It's traffic hell here. I know I should hate Orange County because it's so fake, but I love it."
"Nothing wrong with that," I say.
"I know. I talk such big talk about going to Stanford or Princeton but I really want to go to UCI," she says.
"You do?" Imogen asks.
"Yeah. I'm sorry. I know you want me to go far away," Julie says.
"No." Imogen turns to us. "I want you nearby, but that's selfish. I don't want to push you to stay because I want you here. I want you to have all the space to grow and thrive."
"But not everyone is as brave as you," she says.
"I went somewhere an hour away," Imogen says.
"You didn't know anyone," Julie says. "You moved out. You took this big leap and it was what you needed to thrive."
"I didn't thrive—"
"Can we talk about that?" Julie asks.
"Jules—"
"Is this just going to be more bullshit?" Julie asks.
"Can we talk later?" she asks.
"I'll give you guys the room," I say.
"Does he know what it is?" she asks. "Why things are so weird with you and Mom?"
Yes.
"No. It's not that simple," Imogen says. "There isn't one thing. There are a million things."
"She's not doing well," Julie says. "She's vaping!"
"Maybe she's with the times," Imogen says.
"No. She's drinking a lot. And she's dragging herself to work. Whatever it is, she's not happy."
"Is that why you want to stay?" Imogen asks. "For her?"
"No. I want to be near my family. I want a support network," Julie says. "Some of us need that."
"Jules—"
"Whatever. I didn't come here for this, but… I should go. I didn't want to ruin your morning. And I just… I'm sorry, Patrick. You seem like a good guy. I hope my sister is more honest with you than she is with me." Julie stands and grabs her stuff.
Imogen watches her leave.
I don't think. I run after Julie.
Chapter Forty
PATRICK
I find Julie sitting on the steps of the apartment complex.
"Hey." I sit next to her. "You want to stay here or take a walk?"
She looks up at me with surprise. "Did Immy put you up to this?"
"No."
She wipes a tear from her eyes. "Sorry. I really didn't want to crash your date."
"It's okay."
"It's not. It's really rude."
"I forgive you," I say. "And I'll forgive you more if you let me buy you a coffee."
"That seems backward. Shouldn't I buy you a coffee to apologize for interrupting?" she asks. "I mean, you two were totally going to do it before I showed up right?"
"We were sleeping," I say.
"Then for waking you up," she says.
"Okay. You are an Orange County girl. You must have money." I stand and offer my hand.
She lets me help her up. "Okay, Mr. I Live Off Abbott-Kinney. Do tattoo artists really make this much money?"
"No." If we're getting real, I might as well talk to her. "This was my sister's place. She left it to me."
"Oh. Shit. Right," she says. "And I'm complaining my sister doesn't talk to me."
"It's not a competition." I move down the stairs and motion for her to follow.
She does. "Old and wise?"
"Basically."
"Can you afford that?" she asks. "Whatever was left on the mortgage?"
"Her life insurance covered it."
"Oh."
"It's standard with loans these days." I lead her around the corner where Abbot-Kinney begins. It is a hipster street, but it starts slowly, with the yellow California casual lemonade and salad place. Then a coffee shop. "What do you normally drink?"
"My parents make this Vietnamese iced coffee," she says. "But like… a bougie version, with less sugar, and coconut milk. They made that for Imogen, you know. Because she's lactose intolerant. Mom says it was the key to their business hitting the next level."
"Really?" I ask.
"Yeah, I guess people think coconut is South Asian. I don't know? It was hip but authentic and they can do it keto. So it's win-win."
"You like sweet and creamy?" I ask.
She nods. "But not too much sugar. My coach got us to all skip sugar for the season. Well, mostly. After, it was just… ugh. I used to love eating Sour Patch Kids. Now, I get a wicked headache after. Is that what it feels like to get old?"
"Kinda, yeah." I stop at the coffee shop. "This place has a good cold brew."
"I like an iced latte. With oat milk. Don't tell Imogen." Julie shakes her head. "She hates oat milk."