Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“So I’m going to let it slide,” I say, as if the whole thing is up to me. “Keaton made an honest mistake.”
Reed blinks. “Okay, man. That’s the easiest solution.”
I put my hands in my pockets and shrug. “Now let’s watch some hockey.”
Most of the brothers turn toward the TV room again, where it’s going to be standing-room only until the grill is hot and the dogs are ready. I’m ready to follow them, when Keaton stops me.
“Bailey…” He clears his throat, like it might actually kill him to speak to me. “Look, I’m sorry.”
“Uh-huh,” I say, giving him nothing. “What’s a few thousand dollars to you, right? Oops. Great party, though.”
He flinches. “Yours was, uh, pretty great, too.”
“Thanks, man. But I already knew that.”
“You don’t have to be a dick, Bailey, I’m trying to apologize.”
“I’m not a dick if I let your sorry ass stay in the race,” I hiss. “Let’s not forget what really happened here. You fucked up and I let you off the hook. The end.” At that, I push past him and go.
So Generous
Keaton
It’s Christmas day, and I am quite literally in paradise. I’m sitting on a lounge chair beside the private pool at the villa my parents rented for our vacation in Costa Rica. The sun’s almost fully set, but the sky still has a pinkish, orangey tint to it, and the blue pool tiles seem to sparkle in the golden light. A balmy breeze ruffles my hair and warms my face, and the mango and pineapple cocktail I’m drinking is the perfect after-dinner treat.
So why do I feel so blue?
Oh, right. Because my family makes me want to tear out my hair. During dinner, my mom kept starting sentences with: “This summer, when you’re living at home…”
But I won’t be home if I can help it. And since I dread discussing this, I still haven’t told them about my application for the trip to Chile. What’s the point, unless I’m accepted?
But then my dad said, “Congratulations on your finance internship. You should get the paperwork just after vacation.”
“I didn’t even apply yet,” I’d replied, like the dummy that I am.
And Dad just waved a hand, like it didn’t matter.
“I didn’t turn in the résumé.”
“I turned it in for you,” was his reply.
That’s when I turned the same shade of red as my lobster shorts. “You...what? You faked my résumé?” My voice had gotten all high and crazy. It’s a good thing I’m too young to have a spontaneous aneurysm.
“Nothing on it is fake,” he’d said in a smug tone that made me want to slug him. “My assistant did a nice job of it. All facts, no filler. And it’s just a formality, anyway. You think the HR department would ever turn you down?”
“I know they won’t,” I’d snapped. “But that isn’t the point, and you know it! I don’t want my daddy writing my résumé. Or his secretary.”
“You watch your tone,” my mother had chided. Because of course she would back him up. “Some people would kill for all the advantages you have.”
That’s when I had to leave the room. And I still haven’t told that arrogant, meddling asshole about my summer plans. It’s my big lie of omission that I want to do something to further science.
So I’m sitting out here alone. Seething. On Christmas. I need to talk to someone who understands me. And that person is Annika.
Besides, we need to plan her upcoming birthday celebration. That’s my omission number two. In fact, I saw Annika at her parents’ place right before we left to fly down here. The visit to the Hamptons wasn’t just an excuse to collect my trusty lobster shorts. It’s also when I’d planned to finally show her SinnerThree’s profile, and tell her that I’d found a potential partner. I thought we could take a photo together and send it to him.
Fun, right?
But at the last minute I realized I had a problem. That she might scroll through our app texts. Our very lengthy texts.
All my communication with Sinner was supposed to be groundwork. But as I scrolled (and scrolled, and scrolled) through hours of conversation and sexting, I saw it with new eyes.
What does cheating look like? Because I think it might look like this—sexy talk and shared confidences. Late-night chats and jokes.
I’m not a cheater. I sure don’t want to be, anyway. And since her birthday is only a week and a half away, the point will soon be moot.
So I didn’t show her the app. Instead, I waited until now. I open up Kink and take screenshots of Sinner’s profile, and of our earliest conversations. Then I hit send.
Now I’m just sitting here, waiting for her to call or reply. I absently watch a tiny lizard scaling the wall toward the thatched roof of our villa. It disappears into a small crevice, and I’m jealous for a moment, because I’d love to disappear right now. Being in close quarters with my parents can be so suffocating. Sometimes I really wish I wasn’t an only child. It’d be nice to have a sibling or two to act as a buffer whenever the folks get on my nerves.