Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 138072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
You spit in his face when he says that.
He blinks, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the blood off. The girl, she’s in front of the school, causing a scene as she screams for him to stop. Your father looks away, like he’s about to leave, but then he turns back.
BAM.
He punches you again, one last time, a blow right to the chest. Security lets go of you to escort your father away as he calls back at you, “Princeton’s nice, son. You’ll like it.”
You don’t stick around. People are coming out of the school. Julius Caesar is a mess without its Brutus. So you get in your car and speed away, not wanting to be there. You can’t face them right now.
You drive around.
You drive around for a long time.
Eventually, you end up in Bennett Landing.
It’s three o’clock in the morning. You’re standing on the sidewalk in front of the girl’s house.
You’re drunk. Not that drunk. Not drunk enough to forget. Not sure that’s even possible when you’re drinking champagne straight from the bottle. You swiped it from home before heading to the play. You thought you’d be celebrating with her tonight, but instead, it came to this.
She’s still awake. She sees you from her bedroom window. She sneaks downstairs and slips outside.
“You’re drinking,” she says, looking around. It’s the first time she’s seen you this way. “Please tell me you’re not driving like this.”
“My car’s at the park,” you say. “Drank there.”
“Without me?”
You hold the bottle of champagne out to her. “You can have some.”
She takes it, dumping it out, before tossing the bottle behind her on the grass. “I meant you went to the park without me.”
“Needed to think,” you say, staring at the discarded bottle as you run your hands through your hair. “Been a rough day.”
“I know.” Her hands press gently to your cheeks as she examines your face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you say, kissing her, whispering against her lips, “I just needed to see you again… needed to tell you… that I, uh…”
I love you. You almost say it.
“Tell me,” she says.
“I’m leaving.”
Your voice is quiet.
She pulls away, blinking at you. “What?”
“I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” you say, caressing her cheek as you smile softly. “Didn’t want to disappear on you. You’d never forgive me for pulling a Breezeo.”
You’re making light of it. You’re trying to make her smile. You’re trying to make this moment okay, but she’s panicking inside. Her hands are shaking. She inhales sharply. Tears are filling her eyes. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”
She asks that, but she knows what you mean.
“You can’t leave,” she says. “Where would you go? What would you even do?”
You’re heading to California, you tell her. Or maybe you’ll end up somewhere else. All you know is you have to follow your dreams and you have to do it now. It’s time. You’re going to go wherever life takes you, and as much as your chest aches at the thought of leaving her, at the thought of going through tomorrow without seeing her smile, at the idea of never again getting to hold her in your arms, you can’t stay, not even one more day. Because every day you stay just makes it harder for you to go, and come tomorrow you may lose your courage. You’ll end up at Princeton. You’ll become your father.
She stares at you as you say all that.
She’s starting to cry. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”
You wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Do you think you’ll ever be ready?”
No, she won’t.
She grabs ahold of you, hugging you tightly. “I know you have to go… I know… and you have to follow your heart, but how can I follow mine if you’re gone? I love you, Jonathan. I love you so much.”
You wrap your arms around her, holding her as she cries. Always making the first move. I love you. A long moment passes before you say, “Come with me, K.”
She inhales sharply. “What?”
“You have a life here. You have a family. Fuck, you have finals on Monday. You’re about to graduate and go to college. And I’m probably about to fuck up my entire life, but I love you.”
She pulls back to look at you. “You love me?”
“More than anything,” you say. “More than drama club and dress rehearsals and Julius Caesar. More than annoying the shit out of Hastings. More than the goddamn park down the road. Hell, even more than I loved punching my father. I didn’t stick around here so long for any of that. I stayed for you. And if me loving you is enough—”
“It is,” she says.
“So come along,” you say. “Run away with me, baby.”
You don’t know this, but that girl? As she stands there, staring at you, seeing the light in your eyes and feeling so much love in her heart, she would’ve done anything you asked. Anything. She would’ve climbed any mountain and dug any hole. She would’ve lied, cheated, and stolen. That girl would’ve promised you forever. As long as you love her, for as long as you care, she’s yours. So walking to the park with you and climbing in that Porsche? Easiest decision she’s ever made.