Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
As soon as we’re inside, she slams the door closed with a click.
Dane stands there staring at me through the glass, but she doesn’t let me be a part of it for long, dragging me up the stairs a flight and out of sight.
“You going to be okay?” she asks when we stop. Her honey eyes are so sincere, I can’t stop myself. I reach out to pull her into an abrupt hug. She gives me more than I can ask for by squeezing me back.
“Thank you,” I whisper into her ear. “Just…thank you.”
When we pull away, she wipes a tear I didn’t even realize I’d shed from my cheek with the edge of her sweatshirt sleeve. “Is that guy your boyfriend?”
I shake my head. “Not anymore.” The words don’t quite feel real, but they do feel right.
“Good,” she says. “I’m Carrie, by the way.”
“Scottie.”
Her smile pulls down at the corners of her long-lashed eyes. “I hope to see you around under better circumstances.”
I nod. “Me too.”
“If you’re good now, though, I’m headed to bed. I’m exhausted.”
I crack a smile of my own—a real one. “Me too.”
With one last wave, Carrie climbs to the third floor before dipping through the stairwell door to head to her room. I stay on the second so I can make a stop at one of the vending machines. I’m on the fifth floor, and vending is only on the even numbers.
I grab a bag of pretzels and some M&Ms and then jog up the three remaining floors of stairs, practically sprint down the hallway, and lock myself in my dorm room. Tonight, of all nights, I’m thankful that I don’t have a roommate. I was supposed to, but according to my RA, the girl backed out of admission right before move-in day. All the other girls of Delaney are stuck sharing their space and their toilets with other girls. I have to go to the communal bathroom for showers, but I at least have my half bath to myself.
It’s not long before I’m under my comforter, eating my pretzel and M&Ms mix from a bowl, and scrolling mindlessly on my phone.
With the weight of the evening, stupid internet content seems like the only way to shut my mind off enough to be able to sleep.
It’s only when I close out all my apps to finally give in to exhaustion that I see the little red number two on my messages icon. I open it immediately, hoping it’s not Dane.
The first is from Wren, babbling about some movie scene starring Glen Powell, which I’m sure will seem more worthwhile tomorrow.
But the other is from an unknown number and makes me sit up in bed with a scoot, turn on my bedside lamp, and put on my glasses.
Are you okay? It’s Finn.
Finn. Holy shit. My heart pounds furiously inside my chest, tripping on itself every time I try to take a breath. My hands shake as I program his number into my phone and try to find the right words to say back.
Me: Yeah, I’m okay.
It’s a ridiculously simple message that makes me roll my eyes, but it’s the best I can come up with under this kind of duress. My head is still spinning from the whole freaking night. Not to mention, he texted this a while ago, so who even knows if he’ll text ba—
Finn: I know you have friends, but if you’re ever looking for someone you can come to when things get bad, you can come to me.
Me: When things get bad?
Finn: Scottie, your boyfriend shouldn’t treat you like that.
Me: I guess it’s a good thing he’s not my boyfriend anymore, then.
Finn: You’re done?
Me: He showed up at my dorm tonight after everything. I broke up with him.
Finn: Okay, then. Good.
Okay? Good? That’s it? I bounce up and down in my bed, shaking my hands in a silent scream. Where the hell am I supposed to go from here? I can only think of one thing to say, and it feels unbearably pathetic. Desperate, I send it anyway.
Me: I guess I’ll see you in class, then?
Finn: Yep.
Yep. Gah, why are boys so hard to understand? Is he just a short texter? Is he over it? What the hell is he thinking?
I take a deep breath in and close my eyes to calm down. Scottie, you need to chill.
Right. Well. Okay. I mean, whatever. At this stage of the game, I need to focus on myself anyway. Dane and I have been together for the majority of my transition to adulthood. Half the time, I’m not even sure I know who I am anymore.
For now, I need to think about me, so Finn Hayes’s text messages and what they may or may not mean don’t matter anyway.
Right?
Right.
Me: Goodnight, Finn.
Finn: Goodnight, Scottie.
Tuesday, September 10th
Finn
“Wait up, dude,” Ace calls from three floors up. I’m pushing through the stairwell exit door of our dorm, and I swear he was still asleep when I left the room less than five minutes ago.