Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Speaking of our date—the one that’s taking place in a few days—I click out of my document and do a search for the San Luco bookstore he mentioned. Victoria Paige must be popular because even though the event is open to the public, space is limited, and I definitely don’t want Austin to miss out. So I click to order a VIP ticket, which assures Austin a meet-and-greet. He’s going to lose his mind when I surprise him with it.
Next, I search for her books online and download one of her romances. I figure I should understand why she has such a large following before seeing her in person. Plus, it’ll win me brownie points with Austin. Except when I open the book to the first chapter and start reading, my mind wanders immediately, and I know there’s no chance I’m continuing.
Just not my thing. But sweet that it’s Austin’s.
Friday afternoon, I head to the administration building for my student government meeting, where an argument breaks out regarding campus protests and First Amendment rights. It turns into a civic lesson from Ian, who clarifies that there is no “hate speech” exception to the First Amendment, but the consequences of it are another matter. However, explaining that to angry students who think their human rights are being violated on a state-funded campus is difficult, and I feel guilty that there are few good solutions.
“The law is the law,” Ian mutters as we leave the meeting together.
“Emphasizing peaceful counterprotests was a good idea,” I reply. “Got an errand to run. Catch you later.”
As if to drive the point home, I pass by a lively bigoted group holding signs regarding the very topic we’ve just discussed.
Shaking that off, I put my earbuds in and keep walking into the San Luco town center. I should’ve taken my car, but nothing beats the sunshine and perfect temperature today.
I cross the street to enter Luco Flowers.
“Can I help you?” asks the woman behind the counter.
“Yeah, hi. I was here last month purchasing a poppy.”
“I remember.” She smiles, then motions to the back room. “We just got more in, but in a different color. Let me show you.”
I wait at the counter until she reappears with a bouquet of fiery orange blossoms, and I know immediately that Austin will love them.
“I’ll take half a dozen.”
Once she bundles them up and carefully places the long stems in a bag, I make my way back to Poli House with just enough time to shower and change.
“There you are,” Milo says as I walk through the door. “You have a visitor.”
“A visitor?”
He motions to the living room, where my mother is seated, dabbing a tissue to her nose. “Mom? Is everything okay? Did something—”
Her voice wrenches out the words, “He walked out on me!”
“Who?” I place the bag on the floor and take a seat beside her.
“Tim. We had an argument, and he said we’re over.”
I shut my eyes as frustration blooms in my chest. “God, Mom. Is that why you’re here?”
“I can’t ask for support from my child?”
“Yes, of course. I just…” I try to temper my voice. “I’m sorry he broke up with you. Maybe it was for the best.”
It usually is. There’s only one guy I ever thought was decent, but Mom found him boring. I often wonder if she thrives on the drama.
Thankfully, none of my housemates disturb us as she rants and cries on my shoulder for God knows how long about a guy she thought maybe she could love. My stomach is a wreck because, of course, I don’t want my mom to be sad or suffer, but I also can’t help feeling annoyed that all her breakups feel the same.
When the tears eventually dry up, she gets herself together.
Glancing around the room as if she’s coming out of a spell, her eyes snag on the bag by my feet. “Since when do you buy flowers?” She’s looking at me like I’ve grown two heads.
“Oh, I’m…I’m going to this book signing with Austin, and I…well, he likes flowers, so I thought…”
“Why are you stuttering like that?” She stares at me. “Are you…crushing on him?”
I rear back. “What? No. I’m just being a good friend.”
She pats my leg. “You boys have always been good to each other.”
When I glance at the time on my phone, I spring off the couch. “I’m running late.”
“Oh no! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” She looks stricken. “It’s my fault for assuming you’d have time to spend the evening with your mother.”
Well, fuck. Here comes the guilt.
“Wait, let me just…” I scroll to my last text exchange with Austin.
Mom showed up out of the blue. I’m not sure what to do.
As if for effect, Mom begins sniffling into the tissue again.
It’s okay. You should spend time with her.
I hold in a growl as my fingers fly across the keys.