Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Wren, however, had never gone through an awkward phase. She’d always been pretty and kind and good.
But maybe that was the problem.
The other girls saw her as a competition or something.
Which was absurd since Wren never dated in high school.
“I think college is so different because you get to explore your interests and passions.”
“That’s true,” she agreed, face bright. “But, yeah, I’m so loving it. I even found a study group to hang out with at the library. It’s so hard to make friends as an adult. And, yeah, I mean… I’m a little older than most of them, but not by too much, so it has all worked out.”
“I’m so happy you’re loving it.”
“Did you like college this much?” she asked.
“Yes and no. I didn’t have a lot of friends.” Or any friends, to be exact. I’d gone to one frat party, got so drunk that I blacked out and woke up with a butch woman sitting guard over me, then half-dragging me home while lecturing me about the shitty guys at college parties and what they’d been known to do to unconscious girls, and then I never really attempted to be a part of that scene again. “I loved some of my classes, though.”
“And all of the extra reading time,” she said, smiling.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t exactly have a lot of reading time.
I’d gotten a partial scholarship and a couple textbooks paid for by family, but it wasn’t nearly enough. And not wanting to be fresh out of college and handling debilitating debt, I’d decided to work my way through. Which I did.
I worked a night job at a supermarket and then did odd jobs on the weekends.
I’d been the queen of couponing and figuring out free ways to spend my off time. Which meant a lot of time in the library or the park, or just window shopping with a coffee I made at home so I didn’t waste a bunch of money on to-go fancy coffee.
Even with all that frugality, I’d needed to take out some loans. But thanks to buckling down, it hadn’t been astronomical. Thank goodness, because then I had a little sister to raise, which wasn’t cheap.
Did I miss out on some of the most fun and carefree years of my life? Yes, absolutely. And, quite frankly, I never got them back. In quiet moments, I had some regrets about not living it up while I could have, before life forced me to grow up.
But if I’d done that, Wren’s life would have been a lot harder too. No new school outfit shopping every August. No concerts or Broadway shows. No spending money for coffee or going to the movies.
So I just kind of had to move on and accept that I’d missed out on that light, carefree stuff.
It made me happy, though, that Wren didn’t need to.
When she’d chosen not to go to college, taking off with her first boyfriend instead, you could say I’d been a little miffed.
Then…
Nope.
Not going there.
I was trying to keep things positive.
Wren talked to me about her professors, her dorm room, her roommate, about the food. She got more lively and animated with each passing moment. And because she was distracted, she shoved all the lasagne in her mouth.
Because, for a few short minutes, she forgot.
And it was my goal in life to make those “few short minutes” become hours, then days, then maybe even weeks or months.
It would all be worth it if we could get to that point.
“You know what sounds amazing? Ice cream,” she said, shooting me a wicked little smile. “Do you have strawberry?”
Did I have strawberry?
What an absurd question.
It didn’t matter what day of the week or week of the month or month of the year you opened my freezer, you could always count on finding three things. Frozen pizzas for lazy nights, a bag of questionably freezer burnt broccoli for when I’d been eating too many frozen pizzas in a row, and a tub of strawberry ice cream.
I didn’t even really like it that much. But it was Wren’s favorite. And I always had it on hand.
“No, you know what? Nevermind. This was too much already,” she said, putting her plate on the coffee table like she was suddenly disgusted by it. “I don’t need it.”
“Ice cream is never about need,” I told her, jumping up to go to the freezer. “Ice cream is about want. And if we want it, and it’s here, I don’t see any reason not to have some.”
With that, we did.
And it wasn’t long before Wren was stretching and yawning.
“I should get going,” she said. “I have an early class,” she added, getting to her feet.
“Okay. Yeah. Sleep is important. Give me a second to get my shoes and bag.”