Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
She laughs. “Life is sad, I prefer to live in the sadness and shadows.”
“Then how do you ever see the light?”
“Says someone I’m assuming lives the same way.”
I almost drop the phone. Instead, I leave the room. I leave Chloe and I talk to Sophie. I take a step into the living room. What the hell am I even doing? “Get a pen.”
She says nothing until finally. “I’m ready.”
“She’s still sleeping.”
I don’t know why I say it, and after I give her my address.
After all of it.
After it all.
My concern for Chloe, my underlying understanding of Sophie—things feel weird. I stand outside and grip the balcony, watching the waves crash against the rocks.
Something shifts in the wind.
Something strong.
Something disposable maybe, something new or old? Something that might change things.
But just like the waves—it’s never the same.
I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, with Chloe, with the strong feelings I have, but I know something’s coming.
I count the waves as nervousness takes over.
“Hey,” a voice sounds.
It’s not Chloe.
“I let myself in after knocking a billion times.”
I bark out a laugh. “Damn, you sound like a bitch all the time, or is this just a me problem?”
Sophie walks up to me and grips the balcony, her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, she has no makeup on and is wearing sweats. “Maybe it’s me.”
“Mmmm, no self-control with resting bitch face? Is that an actual condition?”
She turns to me, crossing her arms over her white sweat outfit, biting down on her bottom lip. “Should it be? I gotta admit, I’ve never seen it in the DSMV.”
“The fact you even know what that is, wow, either impressive or concerning, I’m not sure which? I mean, do you watch Dateline, I heard that was a red flag for sociopaths.”
Her smile is finally easy, free as she looks out at the waves. “I hate crime.”
I gasp. “And yet you act like a villain! How dare you!”
She leans down on the banister and sighs, resting her chin against her arms. “Do you ever wonder?”
“Wonder what?”
“Wonder what it would be like to feel like that,” She lifts a finger and points at the ocean. “To crash against a rock and slide through it, and do it over and over again, but never get bruised?”
I have nothing to say but, “That’s not life. We hit something hard, and it hurts, but the hurt is what makes us feel, and when we feel we learn, at least some of us, but the point is, the ending doesn’t always have to be the same.”
“I hate her,” she says immediately, standing and turning to me, her white sweats are almost too clean, her skin too perfect. “I hate her, do you want to know why?”
“Curiosity can be dangerous.” I laugh to ease the tension between us as she takes a step toward me. I don’t back up. I know I should, but I don’t, because I really am curious.
I want to know why she wants to be the water.
Why she hates Chloe.
Why she covets the cliffs.
Why her eyes aren’t the same as Chloe despite being twins, why her behavior is aggressive and angry—and why I like it.
Maybe I see myself in her a bit too much.
I laugh, I keep people happy, but there is so much darkness, so much anger, so much, why not me inside my soul that it scares me sometimes.
It’s why I like Chloe.
It’s why she calls to me, maybe because I’m that masochist that thinks if I just find the one, she’ll fix what’s been so broken, so tarnished, ruined.
Sophie reaches for my face, then pulls a shaky hand back. “It always ends the same, you know.”
“What does?” I ask.
“Everything.” She hangs her head. “I take them, I collect them you know, her boyfriends, every first kiss, I collect them and I keep them so I have something for me, and they all eventually leave her when they realize it’s too hard—you will too you know. After all, they fall for her first.” Her eyes lock onto mine. “Yet want to stay with me forever.”
“What kind of witchcraft do you use?” I joke.
“You want a sample?” She teases with a seductive smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Most just wait until they can’t take it anymore.”
Her hand goes to my chest, I’m still shirtless, but have grey sweatpants on, her eyes follow her hand as she draws a finger down the middle of my chest until she reaches my sweatpants and gives a tug. I stumble toward her.
I tell myself to stop.
I like Chloe.
Chloe!
And she’s sick in bed right now, her sister is… crazy right? But I can’t look away, I want to know.
I do what no guy should ever do. I give into the curiosity of the moment, of the tension swirling, of the familiarity of her mouth, which is even weirder when I think about it.