Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
The days passed slowly, but as they did, the determination inside me grew.
Doug broke first. He knocked on my door five days into our cold war, inviting me to go golfing with his friends. Saying no was no hardship—I hated golf and pretty much despised him.
The nights were much more pleasant. Quieter and less hot. I got on the roof with a flashlight and an astronomy book and a telescope I’d bought after working odd jobs between classes over the year. Doug had given me a credit card to use, but I never touched it, out of principle.
I read about dwarf galaxies and black holes and Higgs boson. I ate a whole day’s worth of food on the roof, not bothering to clean the leftovers, knowing I’d attract all kinds of animals. I lay flat on my back, hands tucked under my head, and wondered. Wondered about what the girl I’d end up marrying would look like. I liked dark-haired women, so I guessed she’d be a brunette. I thought she’d be serious and smart. A scientist, maybe. And she’d have great tits. And she’d let me touch them all the time.
She’d be nothing like Miranda, like Gracelynn, or even like Patrice.
We’d get married, me and this hypothetical girl. And my “family” would attend the ceremony; I’d be cold and distant with them. And they’d know I didn’t need them anymore. That I had my own family now.
This girl, my dream girl, she was going to come from a big, happy family. We’d spend all our holidays with them. We’d have traditions and matching ugly Christmas sweaters and holidays.
It was the dreams that kept me going. Because where there were dreams—there was hope.
After three weeks of solitude, Doug managed to drag me to the tennis court. He knew I liked to play and bribed me with a promise of Korean barbecue and beer afterward.
Dad tried in his own backward way. In the upcoming days, he let me drink beer with his hotshot friends at the country club after my tennis matches (I won them all). And he didn’t force me to spend time with Miranda and Gracelynn.
In fact, I managed to avoid the duo for six whole weeks. Almost the entire duration of my summer vacation. Until one night, when I was on the roof, reading about quantum mechanics, I heard a noise coming from the opposite side of the chimney. I sat up, glancing behind my shoulder. I found Gracelynn standing on the ridge in her pale-yellow pajamas, fists on her hips.
She was just a foot from me, staring at me from above.
“In case you’re wondering, things are perfect without you.” She tried to force a smug grin, but I could tell she was nervous. Her eyes were wide and desperate.
“I wasn’t, but thanks for the update,” I said indifferently. “You can have both of them and this ugly-ass mansion. Life here is boring. I’m having fun at school.”
Lies, lies, and more lies. Andrew Dexter Academy was strict and full of bullies and abusive staff, but I wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of telling her that.
“You know.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I think about that night every day. How come you didn’t try to tell your dad the truth? You just . . . dropped it.”
I did try. He didn’t listen.
I dog-eared a page in my book and put it aside. “Whatever for? I got what I wanted. Not seeing your ugly face every day.”
“Did you really mean what you said? About not caring for me anymore?” Her facade dropped, and with it, her taunting smile.
“With every fiber of my body.”
“Well, for your information, I hate you too!”
“Is this the useless-fun-fact awards?” I looked around us in wonder before reaching for my book with a yawn. “Why the hell do you think I care?”
The next part happened very fast. Gracelynn let out a growl and crouched down, trying to push me down the shingles. I stumbled, still a step away, before managing to grab the vent pipe. I was still a few feet away from the edge. Gracelynn groaned in frustration, using her legs to kick me down. She wanted to kill me. Straight-up break my neck. The girl was a psycho.
“Fall! Oh, die already!” She kicked her legs desperately, trying to reach my body. I curled one hand around the vent pipe and grabbed one of her feet with the other, then tugged her down to me. She gasped, turning flat on her stomach, trying to claw her way back up like a wet cat in a tub.
I didn’t let go of her ankle, but I did climb up the ledge with her. When we got to the ridge, I flipped her flat on her back and straddled her waist. I couldn’t take any chances that she’d try to kill me again.