Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
“So you guys were friends when you were kids, I guess?” she asks.
To my surprise, Austin scowls. “Not good enough friends that we got the heads up this one was leaving.”
“I didn't know it was so sudden,” she muses.
The sudden rush of rage that almost knocks me on my ass and leaves me gritting my teeth to keep from lashing out is intense enough to stun me. She can't leave it alone. She has to know more.
“Everything happened fast,” I explain. When Dex opens his mouth like he's about to make a smart-ass comment, something inside me snaps. His mouth closes, and he sits up straighter. It’s apparent there was something on my face that convinced him to shut up.
“It's not much…” Tatum sets a big bowl of pasta in the center of the table, then adds a smaller bowl with the rest of the sauce. “Maybe I can fix something a little nicer for you guys next time.”
Next time? She is bound and determined to unravel what little is left of my control. It takes everything I have not to glare at her as we take our seats.
I need to keep the conversation away from the topic of me and what I’ve done with my life. Why I left so suddenly—that’s the last thing we need to be discussing. “Are there a lot of people still hanging around? The ones we used to know?”
“Sure, practically everybody except for a few of the guys who... went away for a little while.” Austin slides a guilty look at Tatum.
A look she doesn't notice since she's too busy plating her spaghetti. “Away?”
“I think he means they went to prison,” I mutter, taking the bowl from her when she offers it. Instead of serving myself, I pass it along out of habit. I don't even realize I'm doing it until it's done. “Did you work to pay for this food? Then you wait until the people who did have taken what they want.” After so many years of blocking it out, I can still hear his voice in my head. I have to wonder how much shit is rattling around in my head without me knowing about it.
Tatum’s cheeks turn roughly the color of the sauce she spoons over her pasta. “Oh. Sorry. That was stupid of me.”
“It's cool. So what do you do, Tatum?” Instead of picking up his fork and digging in, Austin smiles at her. I remember him being pretty charming in the day—the girls couldn't get enough of him. Was I ever so young that it used to bother me?
Stop kidding yourself. It's bothering you now.
But the charm’s not working since his question unlocks what she’s been working so damn hard to suppress. The light leaves her eyes as she withdraws. “I graduated college back in May.” She stares down at her plate, pushing food around. “I've been looking for work.”
“What kind of work?”
“PR. That sort of thing.” She swallows hard, and red flags start waving in the back of my head.
“Probably not much opportunity for that out here,” I offer. “Ya never know. Plenty of work can be done remotely.”
“And why are you out here?” Dex asks. Innocent questions, the sort of things you ask a stranger if you're trying to make conversation over dinner. Questions she can’t answer.
I make a point of nudging her to grab her attention. “I've got to say, this isn’t half bad.”
And it works, popping the bubble of tension that was starting to swell around her. “I know how to boil noodles,” she mutters.
“But you didn't over- or under-boil them. Bravo.”
“How were you ever friends with him?” she asks the guys, both of whom laugh and wipe away any lingering discomfort.
I wish this didn't feel so much like tiptoeing through a minefield. I wish I could relax and enjoy seeing people who used to be a big part of my life. There were times when they were all I had, when Mom was either too depressed or sick to be more than a ghost, that I’d have to remind her to get off the sofa and wash her hair. Even then, I knew it wasn’t her fault—she wasn’t to blame.
They were my refuge, being that neither of them had it any better than I did. We could depend on each other. Yet I forgot them so easily, didn’t I?
“Excuse me.” She pushes her chair back from the table and stands. “I’ll be right back.” Her footsteps ring out on the stairs a moment later, and the creaky bathroom door closes.
I would swear they were waiting for just this opportunity. “What's the story?” Austin asks, leaning in.
“Are you fucking?” Dex whispers.
“Oh, Jesus Christ.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry. I guess that internship you went away for made you too good to use the f-word. My bad.”