Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Afterward, he followed Sam into the sunroom to check on the caterpillars. He had picked up a fallen branch from one of the many large maple trees in the neighborhood to help their new little friends along.
“They’re fascinating.” Rhys stared at their antennae and little legs.
“I almost feel sorry for them,” Sam murmured as he adjusted the branch inside the tent. “But it’s probably worth it. I heard that they don’t have pain receptors, not like humans do.”
Rhys’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “What do you mean?”
“They go through a complete transformation inside their chrysalises,” he explained. “They release enzymes that melt their tissue from the inside out, so they end up looking a bit like soup.”
“Holy crap, I didn’t realize.” He stared intently at them, cringing at the very idea of their bodies melting or liquefying or whatever.
“But imagine what they ultimately become and how much they went through to get there,” he pointed out. “To anyone else, it would look like complete destruction, but really, it’s all about transformation and becoming something else entirely. And the wings they create from almost nothing are incredible.”
“Plus, they can fly,” Rhys added, thinking about the colorful monarchs those little guys would soon become.
“Yup,” Sam agreed. “That’s why I thought it was a good gift for you…because you’re sort of going through your own kinda metamorphosis.”
Rhys felt the stinging of tears behind his eyes and swallowed them down.
This kid. So young yet wise beyond his years.
“You mean because of my accident?” Rhys asked around a thick throat.
“Yeah. Well, and your memory.” He motioned with his hand. “You were feeling sorta broken, and now you’ll like, transform into something cool. Not that you weren’t cool before. I just mean—”
“Damn it.” Rhys reached for Sam and pulled him into a tight hug. “Thanks, buddy. I love your gift. And the way your mind works.”
When Rhys looked over his shoulder, he was surprised to see Emerson standing in the doorway, his gaze downcast and his lip between his teeth, as if unsure he should’ve witnessed their private conversation. But Rhys was actually glad he did.
“You’re welcome,” Sam replied as he drew away from the embrace and glanced back at the critters, seemingly nonplussed by how much he’d affected Rhys.
Rhys silently watched the caterpillars for another minute, thinking about how anchored he felt to this family even after such a free fall.
“Hey, if a group of ladybugs is called a…” Rhys trailed off, trying to remember their conversation from another birthday celebration.
“Loveliness,” Sam supplied, and Rhys nodded, still liking the sound of it.
“How about a group of butterflies?” he asked.
Sam pushed up his glasses. “A kaleidoscope.”
“A kaleidoscope of butterflies?” Rhys felt a bit breathless from the conversation. “That’s beautiful, Sam.”
And when he glanced over at Emerson, his eyes had softened before he turned and left them to their own devices.
That night Rhys had that dream again where he was falling. This time, however, he wasn’t surrounded on all sides by complete blackness. This time there was a filtering of colors around the edges of the darkness, like slivers of a rainbow. But he was still scared shitless as he flailed and whimpered, hoping he didn’t hit rock bottom and die.
“No!” he heard himself shout, though it didn’t even register as his own voice. It was raspy and raw as if maybe he’d been hollering the word for a while.
Suddenly he was whooshed back to his body as he felt hands insistently shaking him.
“Rhys, it’s okay.” Emerson’s voice.
He blinked his eyes open and saw blue irises and cinnamon locks hovering above him.
Rhys tried to talk. “Wh-what?”
“You were dreaming,” Emerson replied, his shoulders visibly relaxing.
“Y-yeah.” Pins and needles pelted his arms and legs as feeling began to return to his limbs. Shivering, he grappled with the covers, trying to get warm. “I dunno what’s happening to me.”
“Shh, it’s okay.” He felt Emerson slide under the sheets, and suddenly he was wrapped in a light embrace. Rhys knew Emerson was being careful because of his ribs, and even though they still felt like a constant, aching bruise, he’d definitely welcome more pressure. Still, it felt so good as warmth seeped through his skin to his bones. He sighed and burrowed farther inside his arms, savoring the weight and heat of him. Emerson seemed to get the idea, enveloping him tighter. “It was just a dream, Rhys.”
“It was awful,” he said into his neck, taking in his musky scent. He’d never realized before how much it calmed him. Just another thing he’d taken for granted about his closest friend.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Emerson asked in a hesitant tone.
“I was falling. Into a dark, never-ending void.”
Emerson tensed. “Was it like a memory of your accident?”
“I dunno. Somehow, I don’t think so. It was black all around me, except this time, there was some light filtering in at the edges.”