Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
I couldn’t stand being in this room. I turned to walk away, to get the hell out, when Leo stood in my path. “Please, Cael,” he said. I stared at the door. It was my escape to freedom, to get away from this woeful attempt at healing us. I felt the others’ eyes fixed on me. How were they just sitting there accepting this? How did they want this?
Leo took a step closer. “Cael, please sit down.” His voice was firmer now.
I fought with the need to disobey, but when I found myself looking over my shoulder at Savannah again, the expression of worry on her face made guilt or something like it run through me. Did she want me to leave or stay? Did she understand why I didn’t want to be here? Was she scared of me? My stomach pulled tightly at that thought.
I didn’t want her to be afraid of me.
I turned to face Leo. His hands were held up like he was handling a rabid dog. “We’re just going to talk about the trip now and what we’ll be doing. That’s all.” I smelled the journal burning in the fire, the paper singeing. It comforted me.
I turned back to Savannah again. Her eyes were filled with tears. It friggin’ cut me. She met my gaze and then looked at the journal I’d thrown in the fire. I didn’t know what she was thinking. Did she think what I’d done was wrong?
“Cael?” Leo pushed.
“Whatever,” I said, then sat back down. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t leave. I decided not to think about it too much. Leo sat back down too, and I stared at that journal melting and merging with the burning logs. It reminded me of my now-ruined heart. That had burned to ashes too.
Mia’s soft but steady voice cut through the weighted silence that followed my outburst. “Tomorrow, we climb.” I blinked, turning my attention away from the hearth. I’d zoned out without realizing it. I felt the soft, velvety material of the couch brush under my palm, and the sound of Travis blowing his nose beside me hurtled me back to the here and now. When I looked over to him, his glasses were resting on the top of his head, and he was wiping at his eyes. He looked over at me too, and I saw the raw pain he was harboring glaring back at me.
Had I done that? Had my outburst done this? Or was it the idea of writing in the journal?
As I looked around the group, there wasn’t one person spared. The way they all clutched the journals, it had to be that. The thought of the person you lost … expressing how it felt to miss them … it was brutal.
Losing someone you loved—the club no one ever wanted to be in, but one we would all be forced to join at some point in our lives. No one would escape it. It was simply a matter of when.
I found myself nodding at Travis, a subtle nudge of support, and he gave a small self-deprecating smile in return. I found myself wanting to know his story too.
One thing was for sure—we were all completely messed up.
“The Lake District is known for many things,” Leo said, moving past how troubled we had all become. “Mountain climbing and walking being two of the most popular. And that’s why we’re here,” he said and inched forward in his seat. “We’re going to climb. We’re going to walk. And we’re going to explore this beautiful landscape on foot. Three of the region’s biggest peaks.”
My brows furrowed. We were here to walk? I could see the outlines of the misty mountains from the window in the living room.
“We have everything you will need for hiking,” Mia said. “So we are giving you the rest of this evening to yourself. Dinner is at seven. Then it’s an early start tomorrow. For now, get settled. Unpack. Hang out, get to know each other. And we’ll see you soon.”
Mia and Leo left the room, Leo’s concerned gaze fixed on me as he did so.
“Well, that was heavy,” Dylan said, earning a few awkward laughs from the others. I stared down at the journal in the fire. I had nothing to say to my brother, no feelings or life updates to share with him. He’d neglected to inform me of his, so I’m sure he would recognize the sentiment.
He’d given me, his little brother and best friend, no consideration when he’d made his choice. No communication. No signs. Just the seven scribbled words he’d rushed to write on the back of an old hockey ticket before he blew our world apart.
Instinctively, I reached down to my pocket and checked for my wallet. It was still there. And in the back zipped compartment was that goddamn ticket. And those words. Words I hadn’t looked at in months, burning my skin like they had been written in an eternal open flame. Impossible to extinguish, forever seared into being.