Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
I’m not sure if she’s pleased or offended that I put her in the same company as spoiled princesses and bitchy queens.
“Why don’t we get back to the conversation?” I ask.
She looks up. “Which is… what?”
“You asking me for help.”
Those eyes narrow again. “I already did.”
“No. You didn’t. You admitted you wanted to come home with me.”
She sighs and it’s loud and filled with frustration. “So you want me to… what? Beg you to help me?”
But I come right back at her. “And you want, what? Sympathy from me?”
“Well, yes.” She makes big eyes at me. Like I’m a literal idiot.
So I laugh, because it’s cute. “I’m on your side. I already told ya that. I’m helping ya, aren’t I? Consider us friends.”
“Well, I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies.”
I look to my left and side-eye her. “You do not, under any circumstances, want to know how I treat my enemies.” Which is probably the wrong thing to say, because she recoils. “I just want you to make decisions. I took over for the hardest part. I let you sleep at my place, let ya take a shower, gave you some clothes, took you to the health center, waited around for your diagnosis, got ya more clothes, and took ya to dinner. I’ve met all your needs for this day. But I’m not gonna babysit ya, Clara.” I’m pushing it here, but I’ve got a point, so I make it before she really does get up and walk out, because I can tell I’m pushing her limit pretty hard right now. “You need to participate. Otherwise you’re just dead weight to me.”
Her anger remains for a few moments as she internalizes all my words. But then she gives in and leans back, relaxing into the back of the booth. “Look, I’m… up-city Clara Birch. I… don’t know what you’re expecting of me. Stop playing games and just tell me what you want.”
“Is that how you go through life, then? Exceeding people’s expectations?”
Throwing those words back at her, when she meant them in the nicest of ways and I mean them as derogatory, makes her completely stop and reassess every word we’ve said to each other in the past ten minutes.
“I like you,” I tell her. “You’re very pretty.” She doesn’t smile. “And I’m in. You need a partner, I’m in. But you gotta pull your weight. You’re heavy, Clara. I should know, I carried you up a million flights of stairs. And I’m not talking about how much you weigh, either. You know that. I’m talking about your…” Now I falter for words. Because I’ve never said anything like this to someone before, but at the same time, I realize I feel this way about all people, not just her. “I’m talking about your sense of self, I guess. Remember that girl I mentioned? Anneeta?”
Clara nods. Her face is slack now, but her attention is fully on me.
“She’s seven years old. She was born addicted to spark. Mother died couple years back, at least. She’s all alone. On her own. And do you know, even though I would help her, without hesitation, she has never asked me for help? She’s never asked me for a single fucking thing. If I were putting together a go team, and I had pick of all the people in that tower, I’d take Anneeta with me and no one else. Because even though she’s only seven, she knows exactly who she is. And you, up-city Clara Birch, haven’t got a clue who you are. You’re a liability to me. You’re gonna get me killed. And I don’t really care about that part, but I want to be in control of my death. I can get myself killed just fine, thank you, I don’t need your help for that. So again, I like you, you’re pretty, you’re welcome to stay with me, and I’ll help ya figure out what the hell happened to ya. But I’m not your fuckin’ babysitter. I want you to make your own decisions. And if you want any more help from me, then you’ve got to ask for it. I’m not gonna try and read your mind.”
I lift both my arms up and stretch them out on either side of me. “What you see is what you get. I’m an open fuckin’ book. And if you and I are gonna be partners—in any way—then you will afford me the same courtesy. You will be straight with me and you will not lie to me. Because if I have your back, then you must have mine.”
She continues to stare at me for many seconds. But I don’t interrupt her silence or try and make her come to a conclusion too soon. I know she wants my help and I know she’s gonna give in to my demands. But none of that is the point. The thing I really need from her right now is certainty. Not in me, but of herself.