Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 137572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
“I won’t be walking with you tomorrow,” Lee calls out at me just before I go in, stopping me. “Two-a-days start in the morning, so Tuesdays and Thursdays I’ll be going in at 6.”
I nod slowly. “Alright.”
“So just …” He seems to have trouble figuring out what to say. “I guess, like, just …” His deep voice grows deeper and dumber each time he restarts his sentence. “I guess, just … just don’t say or do anything. Like, to annoy him. Just keep out of his way or … or whatever. He shouldn’t be a problem.”
“He shouldn’t be a problem? Are you talking about Hoyt?”
Lee squints at me. “Of course I am. Who else?”
I don’t even know how to respond to that. “We’re in English together. And he’s in my PE class, too, thanks to Coach Strong’s diligent, thoughtful new phys-ed requirements for his athletes. So, well … yeah, alright. I’ll just ‘try to keep out of his way’. Golden nugget of wisdom right there, Lee. Thank you.”
He frowns. “No need to be a dick about it. Just trying to help.”
“You can help me by helping less,” I throw back casually, then slip into the shed, pulling the door shut behind me.
It’s only then, while sitting in front of my computer with the TV on and the sun slowly setting, when it dawns on me that Lee didn’t, despite my fears, tell either of our parents what happened at school today. He could’ve easily spilled when my mom prodded us about our first day back, but held his tongue.
Not that I’m going to thank him for it or anything. He’s still half a Hoyt minion, as far as I’m concerned. And I still refuse to believe he knows any legitimate secrets about Vann.
Still, the fact that he said nothing to Mom or Carl is a comfort I didn’t realize I desperately needed. And with that mental pretzel out of the way, I suddenly find my mind zeroing in on the other conundrum I haven’t worked out yet: Vann. Even as I continue scouring the internet for more news about Dread Knight II, I can’t stop thinking about him. Hours later when I decide to head back to the house to take a quick shower after my mom’s left for work, with the hot water scalding me, my thoughts are all Vann.
And his brooding, adorable, contempt-filled face.
And his stupid-hot, sleeveless leather jacket.
And his protective, brash demeanor.
And his brooding, adorable, contempt-filled face again.
And that piercing look he gave me when I uttered those two little words—“Thank you”—before he marched into the principal’s office. And how after he left, his eyes still somehow stayed burned into my mind, like they had become a part of me in that moment.
Hours later, the sun has long since set, the stars are out over Spruce, and I’m cuddled up in my bed staring numbly at the TV, but not really watching it. I don’t think my mind is going to rest at all tonight. I’m too stirred up. I’m too awake. I’m too crazy.
And I’m going to see Vann again tomorrow, assuming nothing happened, like he was expelled by Principal Whitman.
Ugh, I’m not going to get a wink of sleep tonight.
I pull out my phone and text someone who is, thanks to the time zone, one or two hours behind me. He’s the only guy who can give me solace in this madness. I type with impatient thumbs. Then my eyes drink in the light from my phone, awaiting a reply.
He calls me instead. “Toby! Hey! Don’t you have school in the morning, young man?” he taunts me in a mock parental tone.
It’s Jimmy Strong, my friend who is miles and miles away in an apartment somewhere in Arizona with his fiancé Bobby. “Yeah, I do, but I … I can’t sleep.”
“Because of some new guy at school? Yeah, I read your text. Is he a total babe or somethin’?”
I chuckle and roll over to face the wall, as if to hide a secret crush from the world. “Total babe,” I confirm, grinning.
“So, uh … what’s the problem, exactly? Is he not into dudes?”
“I’m pretty sure the last thing he’d be into is rolling around in a bed with a guy. He wears a leather jacket and these military-style boots, and he looks … mad all the time. Also, he has kind of a bad attitude, I guess.”
“You’re not really selling him that well.” Jimmy chuckles. “Besides, you can’t always tell just by how someone looks. So you said he has a bad attitude. Does he use that attitude on you, too?”
“I … well … yes,” I admit with a chuckle. “He was awful to me.”
“Awful. Huh. Alright, so you want my advice? Here’s what you do, Toby: Ignore him.”
I blink. “What?”
“Don’t give him the time of day. This guy sounds like a punk. And if he’s got an attitude now, how’s he gonna be when you guys have your first adorable fight as real boyfriends? That’s even if he’s into guys. Nah, ignore him. Trust me. Sounds like bad news.”