Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Deep breaths, stay cool, I tell myself as I meet his eyes.
“Guess the storm has me on edge,” I tell him, watching him carefully. “You seem on edge too.”
His eyes widen, brows pulled to the ceiling. “I do?” he practically squeaks. “No, no, not at all…I just…” He licks his lips and looks behind him at his dad who is now standing by a lectern that seems to have come from out of nowhere. His dad gives a barely imperceptible nod of his head.
Oh shit.
Alan turns back to face me. “Amanda,” he says, voice soft and full of something that sounds like hope. My gut clenches. “Just stay right here. Don’t move.”
Oh god.
He walks over to the lectern. Someone turns down the music. The lights dim. People stop dancing.
I’m frozen in place. Stay right here? I couldn’t run, even if I wanted to, even if I needed to upchuck in the toilet.
Oh god, please, please don’t puke, I tell myself. Please don’t let this be what I think it is.
Alan picks up the microphone, tapping it.
“Testing,” he says, his voice way too loud and crackly over the speakers. “Sorry, sorry everyone. I know midnight isn’t for another hour, but I was wondering if I could have your attention.”
Fuuuuuuuuck.
I glance around and see everyone either looking at Alan or looking at me. His parents, dressed in their finest and wearing expressions that only sun exposure and plastic surgery can bring, are watching me. So is Alan. So is Sarah, who is coming through the crowd, giving me an exaggerated thumbs up as she takes her place among everyone else.
“You see,” Alan goes on, “tonight isn’t just New Year’s Eve. It’s the fourth anniversary for Amanda and me. It’s a special night, one we usually celebrate by ourselves, so you’re probably wondering why I invited you all here to share in the night with us. I mean, other than the fact that we adore your company.”
He flashes his smile at the room and some people chuckle. Lame asses.
“Well,” he says, “I have an explanation. But it’s not for you. It’s for my shining star. My beautiful Amanda Panda Bear.” He gestures to me, and I swear I can hear the sound of thirty heads swiveling at once.
I don’t know how I paste a smile on my face, but I do, even though the room is starting to spin and my head feels like it’s being put through an acidic spin cycle.
This isn’t going to end well.
Then, to my complete surprise, he steps away from the lectern, the microphone going with him. Piano music starts tinkling and he begins to sing.
Sing.
“I remember all my life,” he croons, wiggling his brow even as a drop of sweat rolls down. “Raining down as cold as ice.”
Holy fuck. Is he singing “Mandy” by Barry Manilow?
Alan comes closer, gliding toward me like he’s rehearsed this a thousand times, and then it occurs to me that it’s Alan, of course he’s rehearsed this a thousand times—he rehearses what he says to his parents before we roll up to their house every Sunday dinner.
I mean, never mind the fact that he can sing, which is something else I had zero idea about.
I’ve been with Alan for four years. I’ve lived with him for one. And I knew him for two years before that. I should be surprised that I didn’t know this about him, but the fact is, I’m not surprised at all. Because I don’t really know him. And he doesn’t really know me. And that’s why I know this whole evening, this whole horrible event flashing before my blurry eyes, is one huge mistake I’m going to have to deal with. Hopefully without tears or a side of vomit.
I’m standing in the middle of what looks to be an epic proposal to a man that I love but don’t want to marry. Alan Kingston is the man my parents wanted for me. He’s the man that most women want for themselves. He’s smart, wealthy, sophisticated, loyal, good-looking, and kind. He’s the reason my mother looks at me with less disappointment, he’s the reason I’m treated with more respect by our peers, why we can get reservations at any restaurant, why I know I don’t have to work a day in my life if that’s what I choose. He’s the reason I should be about to break down in happy tears, overwhelmed with joy over the life we’re about to spend together, that he’s picking me, Amanda Tits McGee Newland, over everyone else. He’s picking the weirdo with her secret hopes and dreams.
But it’s because of those hopes and dreams and everything that makes me tick that I know I can’t say yes. Because a life with him isn’t the life I want. I’m twenty-one years old. I’m young, so young, and I don’t even know who I really am. All I know is the person I am currently doesn’t want the life my parents have tried so hard to carve out for me. It wants something completely different. It wants to be free.