Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I finally decide that hiding under the blanket probably isn’t going to give me the level of protection I need, so I inch it down and peer fearfully around the room.
Scritch, scritch, scritch.
“Please don’t be the devil. I said not today, Satan, and I know I said that yesterday, but I actually meant not any day.”
Scritch, scritch, scritch. CRASH!
“Ahhhhhhh!” My scream echoes through the room, louder than the crash of plaster that just came down from the ceiling in the middle of the room.
I throw the blanket down and leap up as a very dusty ball of unidentified fur goes racing around the room. I don’t know what it is, but it’s bloody huge. I’m scared to touch the floor, but something tells me that I’m going to be a lot better off if I get the window open. The roofline isn’t steep, and whatever is racing through here like a furry ceiling monster will probably like being out there much better than being locked in here with me.
I race for the window, diving at it at the last second to crank it open. Once it’s wrenched up, I dash back to the bed and make a flying leap on top of it. The mattress is so hard and lumpy and old that I nearly get a punishing spring to the gut for my trouble. As it is, one digs ferociously into my knee like a set of claws. I scramble up, yanking off the quilt, but nope, it’s just the mattress and not whatever animal crashed through the roof.
While I’m marooned on the bed, I push a hand to my mouth to silence myself in hopes that the animal will come out from hiding. Eventually, somewhere between two and three centuries later, I’m rewarded for my efforts. A bundle of gray fur that’s still streaked with plaster dust goes racing for the window. It sails through, and as I rush there to look out, I catch the hind end of a striped tail fleeing down the roof.
A raccoon. It was just a raccoon.
I slam the window shut and collapse against the glass pane, breathing hard. I knew the poop I saw yesterday didn’t look right. I guess some of it belonged to that creature, who I desperately hope doesn’t come back for round two inside the roof.
I lean my forehead against the glass I scrubbed yesterday evening and then stare at the driveway, almost as though I can will the sleek black car from yesterday to appear and make everything better.
I still don’t know why Atlas is doing this. We don’t know each other. We’re not friends, and he doesn’t owe me anything. I admit the project would make for a great before-and-after deal, as he said, but he’s going to lose so much money. How can I live with that? I can’t take his help for free. I did make a budget last night, and it’s quite paltry. At best, I can probably hope to have the water fixed, but maybe not even that much.
My cheeks flush, and my body heats up beneath my gray T-shirt and pajama shorts with purple and pink hearts. Atlas looked at me yesterday like he really saw me. Like he was looking deep into my heart. There was an edge to his look, which was tinted with just a tad of coming home or running into an ancient friend. There was a heck of a lot more burning in his lovely and strange gray eyes, but I’m no expert on emotion.
No, I’m the girl no one noticed in high school because I spent all my time reading instead of hanging out and doing stupid teenage shit like going shopping or partying. In college, I was pretty much the same. I’ve had approximately zero boyfriends. Okay, the number isn’t approximate. It’s a hard and fast zero. I don’t like to think of myself as shy. I guess I would rather call myself an extremely old soul in a young woman’s body. I like to have fun as much as the next person, but my fun is slightly geekier and old-fashioned, I guess. I’m probably the one person who actually wanted to live by myself. I didn’t mean here, but I imagined myself working part-time at something, living in my parents’ basement, and concentrating on my writing.
But Atlas? The way he looked at me yesterday? He noticed.
He noticed me when I really didn’t think anyone else ever had.
I don’t know what to do with that look, and even now, I practically melt against the window as I watch the sun move higher into the sky to start the day. I’m not sure what time he’ll be here, and even though I don’t have a working shower or bathroom, I really want to be somewhat presentable. But I don’t have time to drive into the city and go to my parents’ house for any of that. No, I’m going to have to water the weeds in the backyard…erm, that’s a terrible expression. I’m going to have to pee outside, then come back in here and apply deodorant liberally and get into a fresh set of clothes. Hopefully, that will be enough to get me by until I have running water.