Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
We were heading to Outpost Breakaway, a locals’ place, and one of those locals was a guy in the Alpha Mu fraternity. Word got around the party group about this particular place, but I was hoping not many would be there when we showed up.
After stopping for food and booze, we pulled into the parking area. It wasn’t overloaded with cars. A few trucks. My hope came true.
“I grabbed chairs and a blanket.”
I was getting out, my backpack in hand. Cruz reached into the back of his truck for the groceries.
“You did?”
He nodded, hefting the cooler up and out. “And tossed a thing of wood back there if you wanted to stay for a bonfire.”
He didn’t wait around for my response, just grabbed two bags of groceries with his free hand and went down the trail.
Well, then. A beach bonfire was the best.
I loaded up my arms, going after him. Once we got to the beach, he picked a spot a bit away from the steps. Enough where people could pass by and we wouldn’t hear their conversation, but they’d still see us.
He tossed everything down, going back, so I began spreading out the blanket. The chairs were put up, and by then, he’d brought everything else. I was on the blanket, my abnormal psych book out, and I glanced up as he placed his book bag next to me. He was staring off at the water, that same haunted look on his face. I could see the shadows going over his face as he tightened his mouth, his jaw clenched.
I sat back, my arms circling my knees. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
His gaze met mine as he sat down, and such sadness looked back at me, taking my breath. He shook his head, blinking, and looking away. “No. I just want to forget all about it.”
He settled down, pulling out his own textbook.
My phone began buzzing as texts rolled in.
Miles: Where are you? Library?
Gavin: Beers tonight! Where are you?
Wade: That quiz you thought we were having last week, it’s happening tomorrow. Want to do a study sesh?
Taz: I’m at the library with Skylar and Zoe. Darren is here too. Where are you?
Miles: You’re not with our roommates. I just found them. Headed to the hockey house. You there?
I had more texts coming through, but felt Cruz’s attention.
I moved to silence my phone, but as I did, my screen flashed. One last text.
Dad: How are you, sweetie? I’m coming through Grant West this week. Give me a call. Let’s do dinner.
A sudden knot formed in my throat. My dad coming through where I go to college? This didn’t happen. It wasn’t how our relationship worked. I didn’t believe in coincidences. He wasn’t phrasing it that he was coming to visit me, but dinner. Something was happening. Something Mom-related.
I changed my mind. I turned off my phone.
Three hours later, our sandwiches were out and a bag of chips was between us. Cruz had mixed both of us some drinks. I’d also crammed for another abnormal psych quiz. Cruz, I didn’t know what he was studying, but he was quiet the whole time.
It felt nice. The whole day. The sounds of the waves.
“We should talk.”
I jumped, spilling my drink, then laughed.
“What?”
I shook my head, dabbing at my legs. “I was just thinking that I liked that we hadn’t been talking.”
“Oh.” He frowned, his knees bent, spread out. His book sat between them, but he was lounging forward, his arms loosely resting on his knees. “I mean, we’re doing the friends thing, right? Friends talk. We should talk.”
I closed my textbook, and leaned back, my drink in hand. “You talk.”
He glanced up to me, his eyebrows pinching down.
“Friends tell each other what’s going on with them.” I took a sip, giving him a pointed look.
He snorted, fighting a grin before looking back to his textbook. “Real subtle, Daniels.”
“Last names.” I whistled. “Have we progressed or regressed with that?”
He laughed again, before letting out a soft sigh. “Friends. Right.”
I took another sip. “Friends.”
“You asked about my towels, long time ago. You remember?”
I frowned. “Yeah?”
“Where’d you get this thing?”
He laughed, laying back. “No personal questions, Daniels.”
“I didn’t know that was a personal question. My bad.”
“It is because my sister made it.”
I remembered, giving the blanket another glance. It looked like the towel that day. “What–that was a towel. This is a blanket?”
“They’re the same. This is just the bigger size. They’re called beach towkets.” He grinned, looking out at the ocean. “That was her word for them. We went to the beach a lot. Our family. She started making them one summer, and fuck, if I should hate them, but I don’t. It’s the one thing from her that I can’t bring myself to hate.”
I frowned. “Your little sister used to make these?”