Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
So why are they suddenly enjoying nights holed up in their room together?
Bones can’t figure out what’s changed, why he likes being around Emil so much and why he’s suddenly falling asleep in Emil’s bed. And as far as Emil knows, Bones is straight, so why does he seem jealous when Emil arranges a random hookup, then asks all sorts of questions about what it’s like to kiss another guy?
To put an end to his roommate’s endless queries, Emil kisses Bones, convinced he’s just goofing around. But one encounter leads to another, until Emil begins seeing Bones in a different light. Underneath the clueless, carefree facade lies a deeper emotional underpinning that allows Emil to become more vulnerable too—and maybe even admit that spending time with his roommate is the best part of his day.
Still, Emil isn’t about to become another jock’s experiment, so he makes it clear that their hookups are totally casual. Until they’re not.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
Bones
Bones
I suppose you were a decent enough roommate, and I’d be cool with keeping the same living arrangement for next year. Don’t make me regret it! It’ll also be nice not to find your socks and underwear all over the fucking room over break. Maybe work on that this summer.
Until we meet again. Dork.
Emil
I didn’t know why I kept reading that stupid note, but it made me smile despite myself. I’d grown to like my roommate at Roosevelt College and would even call him and his band of misfits friends. It was fun when we all hung out. I could admit that, at least.
But Emil and I bickered more than anything else. His competitive streak was worse than mine, and when we started fighting over the controllers in the common area, everyone cleared the room. I hated that he could kick my ass in any racing game, and in Ping-Pong, and…well, in all the games, really.
“Bruce, dinner’s ready,” Mom called from downstairs.
“Be right there.”
I read the note again, homing in on the familiar words—until we meet again. My older brother, Brody, had expressed the same sentiment.
Brody had been an all-star in high school and had gone on to impress coaches in college too. Name a sport, and he played it. He was the apple of my parents’ eye, and after his college graduation, he enlisted in the Army and became a Ranger—because, of course, he would join an elite force.
I still held on to the note he wrote me before he left.
I’ll miss you, Squirt.
Until we meet again.
Despite our six-year age difference, Brody and I had been close and had communicated regularly by email when he was overseas in Afghanistan.
Brody,
Mom’s been a nervous wreck since you got shipped off. Dad, too, though he tries not to show it. It’s like Mom can’t even concentrate. Her mind wanders, and she worries constantly about your safety.
I feel like anything I do lately is a nuisance. Especially to Dad. I know my grades aren’t the best, but it’s not like I don’t try.
Maybe it’ll get easier with time.
B.
His replies always made me feel better—probably because I’d looked up to him as much as my parents did.
Squirt,
Soon enough, you’ll be an adult and out on your own. You’ll be able to live how you want. I certainly do.
Hang in there.
Brody
I couldn’t wait for the day I got my college diploma.
Okay, enough reminiscing. I shoved Emil’s note in my drawer and headed down the steps, pausing in the entryway near the large photo of Brody in his military whites. Underneath the picture frame was a table with a pottery bowl we threw our keys into as we came through the front door. Brody had made it for a Mother’s Day gift in middle school. There were also other things he’d sent her over the years that she’d set up as a sort of shrine to him.
When the doorbell suddenly rang, I jumped.
“Who’s at the door?” Dad asked from the kitchen.
“UPS,” I replied, glancing through the window.
“Answer that, will you?” Mom called.
“On it.” I grabbed the package he’d left on the stoop. I felt lightheaded as another memory came rushing back.
That day, almost five years ago now, I’d opened the door to find men dressed to the nines in military uniforms with patches and medals on their chests that obviously meant something important. My gut had tightened at their somber expressions.
When they told us Brody had lost his life in a helicopter training mission, our whole world shattered, and life had never felt the same again.
Mom became inconsolable, and Dad shut everyone out.
I didn’t know what the hell to do those weeks after, so I’d resorted to emailing Brody one last time to make sure it was real—or who the hell knew the reason why. Maybe because it’d become a habit and living by routine kept us going.
Tears had streamed down my face as I’d typed the words and hit Send.
Brody,
I still can’t believe you’re gone. Writing this at least keeps you alive in my head.
Mom is devastated. We all are.
When your body was flown in, it felt like a nightmare.
Were you really inside that casket with the flag draped over it?
I’ll keep a brave face for you and try not to disappoint Mom and Dad.
And if you’re watching from somewhere like Mom believes, send her a sign or something. Let her know you’re okay.
Maybe it’ll ease the ache I feel dead center in my chest, like it’s been hollowed out.
Until we meet again.
B.
Even knowing deep down that he was truly gone, I was destroyed all over again when there was no response.
But despite that, I continued to update him on my life all through high school. The emails were always returned as undeliverable because his account had been suspended, but for that brief moment after hitting Send, it was almost like he was still there on the other side of the world, listening and offering advice.