Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
My phone on her kitchen island starts vibrating. I stand to get it.
“Kill me,” I plead into the phone as my twin brother, Jude, laughs.
“Why? What’s wrong now?” His upbeat voice bugs me at the moment.
“Everything. I’ve been texting you,” I grumble into the phone and grab a mug out of the cabinet. Might as well have some of Skylar’s coffee while I decide what to do.
“Alex, I’ve been at practice nonstop. College ball is a bit different than high school.” I hear laughter in the background, and all of a sudden, I’m homesick. Maybe packing up and moving across the country wasn’t a good idea.
“Where are you?” I take a sip of the hot coffee, not even caring when I burn my tongue. With the way this day is starting off, if that’s the last crappy thing that happens, I’ll be thrilled.
“At a frat house… Dude, I’m on the phone… Tell her I’ll be right there,” my brother yells at someone. I lean against the counter, wondering why Jude is always so lucky.
“Alex, you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay. My car is broken, and Skylar is just…” I take a deep breath.
“A bitch? Cunt? Go ahead. It’s okay to say it if it’s true.” He laughs again.
“Jude, you cannot call a woman the c-word, and you know it,” I grumble, taking another sip of coffee.
“Wait, what happened to your car? Did you tell Dad?” Jude’s voice cuts in and out. Clearly, the reception is not great where he’s at.
“The check engine light is on. I thought maybe it just needed oil, but I put some in and it’s still jerking and making that horrible noise. What do I do? I need to be in class in an hour,” I snap.
“Alex, you need to tell Dad—”
“I can’t tell Dad. He’ll freak, and I really want to save my misery card so that I can hopefully talk him into letting me move out. If he has to fix my Honda, that’s it. I’m stuck here with Skylar.”
“Ignore Skylar. She’s only jealous because you look better than her.” Jude laughs again at something or someone. I shake my head as I set my mug down to spy out the window at a couple of gardeners taking their lawnmower and blower out of their truck.
“You haven’t seen her in a while.” I snort. “I think she got her nose done. She looks really beautiful, Jude. So it’s not a jealousy thing. It’s more like she’s so self-centered that she thinks I’m beneath her or something. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” Turning, I dump my coffee into the sink, then reach for a banana. Screw it, I’m starving.
“Just get an Uber. Here, I’ll send you sixty bucks on Apple Pay,” he says. “Look, you wanted to go to the West Coast so bad. You worked your ass off to get into that fucking entitled school. You should pack your shit and go to Ohio State with me. It’s time you let loose and had some fun.”
“You got a full scholarship to play football, Jude,” I remind him, rolling my eyes as I quickly eat the banana, trying not to let it sting that he’s right—my whole life I’ve been “good.” God, I hope that’s not what happened to Skylar. She spent all her life being perfect, and now she’s insane. I mean, look at her house—it’s immaculate, but there’s a sadness, like it wants to be used. Hardwood floors gleam, and the sweet smell of potpourri drifts through the place. It has two bedrooms and a great yard; the only drawback is the one bathroom. But at least it’s a decent size with an old clawfoot tub.
“Alex? You still there?” My brother’s voice makes me focus on the now, and how I wish I was him at the moment. Jude’s not only smart, but he’s also athletic. Things seem to come easy for him. Again, that bugs me.
I pop the last bite of the banana in my mouth, toss the peel into her stainless steel trash can, and like a paranoid weirdo, reach for some paper towels to toss on top of it.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” I mumble, my mouth still full while I try to swallow. “I’m literally hiding a banana peel. I wouldn’t put it past her to have a nanny cam watching me.” Turning, I wash my hands in the sink.
“What are you hiding? You’re breaking up. Look I’ve gotta roll. Text me later.” He hangs up before I even have a chance to complain more.
“Perfect,” I mutter into the now-disconnected phone propped between my chin and shoulder as I finish washing my hands.
And I’m back to being alone. I hate that. Maybe it’s a twin thing, but it’s something I struggle with all the time. What if Jude’s right, and I should have stayed in Ohio and gone to the state university like him?