Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
So maybe they were still a team—just a team of three.
“This is incredible.” Everything seemed magical. The stars twinkling overhead. The night breeze. The gentle waves to my right. And to the left was a row of palm trees—and Dominic.
Even though this walk had been Justin’s idea, he’d gone off ahead with Tye. I could hear them talking in low voices, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Dominic looked over at me as we walked across the packed sand. “It’s more fun to kick off your shoes and walk in the water, but that’s something that should probably wait for daytime.”
“Why?” I asked. My voice was soft, as was his. It seemed too special of a night to waste by speaking loudly. “Are there sharks in the water? Or piranhas? Or pirates?”
We were passing by another huge mansion, though not as big as Evelyn’s, and the light from their pool area crossed Dominic’s face, revealing a slight smile. “Aren’t piranhas freshwater? The biggest thing to worry about here is stepping on a shell in the dark. It feels about as good as stepping on a Lego. But there are occasionally stingrays, horseshoe crabs, and jellyfish.”
“The only thing on that list that wasn’t scary was the Lego. Oh, and the shell.” While stepping on one didn’t sound like fun, it also didn’t sound lethal.
We walked along in silence for a bit longer, and once or twice, I felt an absurd urge to reach out and take his hand. That was ridiculous, because I didn’t even know him, but this was just such a special experience for me, and I was glad I wasn’t alone for it.
“So, how does the ocean measure up to Lake Michigan?” Dominic asked as we walked on.
“No contest. I mean, there are some gentle waves on Lake Michigan, but it’s nothing like this.”
“And this, the Gulf, is nothing like the Pacific, but I really like it here. Aunt Evelyn and whichever husband she was married to then bought this place when we were in high school. It was awesome spending long weekends here.”
“You went to high school with Justin and Tyler?” I asked. He nodded and I thought that over. Their friendship went back further than I thought. “I’m surprised you didn’t spend whole summers here.”
“There was always baseball camp and extra training. But we got here as often as we could. What were your summers like when you were in school?”
I hoped he meant high school, because I never got the chance to attend a university. “Uneventful. I worked whenever I could.”
“Doing what?”
“Cashier at a convenience store, hostess at a restaurant, dogwalker… anything I could find, really.” That probably seemed strange to someone who had family money like him. It sounded like Justin hadn’t grown up in a family like that, though. I didn’t know about Tye. I wanted to ask Dominic more about his past, but he got another question in first.
“Did you have a big family?”
“No.” That really wasn’t a topic I wanted to get into, but I also didn’t want to be rude, especially on such a beautiful night. “My parents got divorced when I was young. I lived with my mom and stepdad until I moved out after high school. I didn’t see much of my dad.”
That was true—back then. But it wasn’t true any longer, unfortunately. My income when I’d worked for a massage chain hadn’t been the best, but it got worse when I started working for myself and had to buy the portable massage table and all the supplies. Still, I was managing, living with three other roommates in an overpriced Chicago apartment, until a few months ago. A few months ago, Roommates 1 and 2 declared that they were in love and wanted to get their own place. Roommate 3 moved into her parents’ basement.
And I wound up living with Frank.
Going back to my mom’s house wasn’t an option. From the moment she married my stepdad, she put him first. For everything. She always believed him over me, and she put all her attention—attention that probably should’ve been directed to her child—toward him.
In the meantime, my dad all but disappeared. Every two or three years, I’d get a card or a Christmas present, if you could call it that. When I was thirteen and interested in music and makeup, he sent me a plastic doll.
We didn’t really get back in touch until last year, when he said he wanted to make up for lost time. He took me to brunch or dinner once a month. It didn’t make up for lost time, but gradually, the meals became less awkward. At least until I had to move out of my apartment. I spent months looking for shared housing I could afford, but it just didn’t seem to exist.