Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“You should go to bed, son. You have a busy day and practice tomorrow after school,” Sidney says.
“Okay. Good night. And tell Vi I’m sorry again. And thanks for making sure I didn’t die like an asshole.”
“Will do.”
Miller disappears back inside and trudges upstairs to his bedroom.
“I think when you’re ready, we can probably tell them?”
Sidney’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I think Violet already suspects something, anyway.”
“How about a barbecue later this week?”
“That would be perfect.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I CALLED IT
Violet
Intuition tells me that something big is about to happen. Well, it’s less about intuition and more about observation. My mother has spent an inordinate amount of time disappearing into her bedroom since she came back from her weekend away with Sidney. She’s never gone for long, just a few minutes, but when she returns, she’s always sporting a dreamy smile.
At first I thought maybe she was taking care of personal business, which isn’t something any sixteen-year-old girl wants to consider too carefully when it comes to her mom. We’re pretty open, but there are some lines that should never be crossed. It was happening so frequently, though, I decided that couldn’t possibly be it.
And then comes the mid-week barbecue at Sidney’s. That isn’t too unusual considering it’s summer and the nice weather only lasts so long in Chicago, so we definitely want to take advantage of it while we can. But add in the incessant text messages, phone calls where she disappears for several minutes because apparently the content requires privacy, and then when she returns, she’s all squirrelly and nervous.
“Do you have your lactose pills?” she asks for the tenth time.
“Yes mom, I have my lactose pills.”
“And your bathing suit?” She rummages around in her purse for the seven hundred and fifty-second time in the past ten minutes.
I hold up the giant beach bag that contains not only my bathing suit, but my favorite towel, a romance book in case listening to Buck talk about hockey gets boring and I need to tune him out, a change of clothes and a lot of sunblock. “Yup.”
“So you’re ready to go?” She’s still digging around in her purse.
“Yes, mom. I’m ready to go. Are you making a stop in Narnia first, or channeling your inner Mary Poppins?”
“Huh?” She stops her purse rummaging to look at me.
I prop a fist on my hip and arch a brow. “You’re basically trying to climb into your purse. What’s going on? What are you looking for?”
She blinks at me for several long seconds. “I’m just making sure I have everything I need.”
I drop it. For now. This is what she does when we travel; compulsively checks her purse for her driver’s license, even though she always keeps it in her wallet. It doesn’t matter if it was there two minutes ago, she’ll still check again, like an inanimate card is going to sprout a pair of legs and walk off.
We hop into the car and drive over to Sidney’s. Mom is antsy as hell. Neither of us is awesome at keeping secrets or hiding things from each other, so I’m about ten thousand percent sure one of two things is going to happen today. She asks me the same three questions twice. I don’t call her on it.
Sidney is already on the front porch when we arrive. Another sure sign something is going down.
“Hi, Violet. Miller’s out back by the pool if you want to join him. I’ll help your mom bring everything in.” Sidney pats me on the shoulder.
“Sure. Sounds good.” A couple of minutes alone with Buck is exactly what I need. He’s been messaging relentlessly since the weekend, making sure we’re still cool. I have a feeling he remembers bits and pieces of our conversation before he tossed his cookies.
If I’m right about what I think is coming today, it will serve me well to have something to hold over Buck in the future. Just in case he gets it in his head to throw another party with his hockey buddies when our parents inevitably go away again.
I find Buck skimming leaves out of the pool. It seems to be one of his favorite pastimes.
“Vi! Hey. Hi.” His eyes go wide and his gaze shifts behind me. “Where are the ‘rents?”
“Inside, doing whatever.”
He puts the net back and rushes over. “I’m so sorry about Saturday night. Thanks for not letting me die. And whatever I said, I didn’t mean it. Unless it was an apology. I meant those.”
“Do you mean the part about me being forbidden fruit?” I arch a brow.
His eyes widen further. “Oh God. I said that. I hoped it was all in my head. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. However, it came out.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” Is it awful that I’m allowing him to believe he made an actual pass at me? Probably. But if our parents end up getting married, I’ll be his younger stepsister. His douchebag friends might decide to torment me because I’m a certified nerd and I’m horrifyingly clumsy. But if I have something to hold over his head, he’ll be compelled to defend me. Even though Buck makes some questionable choices, and he seems like he’s on the path to becoming a player, he’s a genuinely nice guy. He’ll feel bad about this for as long as I allow him to believe it’s true. Which may or may not be forever.