Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just another day, another prickly and sensitive asshole.”
Darien laughed, and Houston, in a clear and shockingly loud voice, shouted out above him, “Asshole, asshole!”
“Ah, crap,” Darien said once we both stopped laughing. “Shelly’s never going to let him back up here now.”
24
Charlie Marsh
Turns out that living with a big-ass target on your back really wasn’t conducive to a calm and peaceful lifestyle.
Who would have thought?
I’d spent the last week constantly looking over my shoulder and jumping at the stupidest shit. Paranoia was the name of the game, and I was getting damn good at playing it. Even at work, I side-eyed pretty much every customer who walked through the door, even though I had known most of them for my entire adult life. I didn’t know who I could trust anymore, and that feeling really started to eat away at me.
It was why I decided to spend my afternoon with two people I knew I could trust unconditionally: my parents.
We sat outside on their deck, surrounded by blooming potted plants and hanging vines. There was a trough next to the railing that held a vegetable garden currently growing fist-sized tomatoes and equally massive cucumbers. The umbrella blocked out most of the harsh afternoon sun and kept the fresh breeze flowing, complementing my mom’s spiked raspberry lemonade.
“Any new updates on the case?” my mom asked as she sat down, resting a hand on my dad’s bouncing leg.
“Nothing,” I said with an exasperated sigh and another gulp of the lemonade. “But at least there hasn’t been any more blood-written threats, so silver lining, I guess.”
My mom put a hand over her chest, her bright red nails popping against her sunshine-yellow blouse. “I can’t believe any of this is happening. In our town and to you, of all people. I hate it.”
“So do I,” I said, shrugging and falling back into the cushion-covered wicker bench.
My dad lifted a finger and surprised me with what he said. “Well, speaking of silver lining, at least you and Austin are reunited over all this. There’s a positive right there.”
It didn’t surprise me that he knew Austin and I were together. But hearing him acknowledge it and call it a good thing—I never would have imagined that happening as a kid. He had been a completely changed man after my accident. I tried not to give too goofy of a smile, so I decided to take another gulp of the lemonade.
“It is a positive,” I said around the straw. “A big one.”
“When is he coming over for dinner?” my mom asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen him since he was a college kid and you two were running off everywhere.”
“I think we can do this weekend.”
My mom smiled, along with my dad. It was a mindfuck, seeing them this happy about hanging out with my boyfriend. A very happy mindfuck, but a mindfuck nonetheless.
“And where are his parents? Maria and Ignacio? Oh, they had the funniest stories—I died every time those two would start talking,” my mom said, a warm glint inside her hazel eyes.
“They’re in Spain. Granada. Austin’s talking about taking a trip to see them this summer. If everything calms the hell down before then.” Another sip of the lemonade might have been what pushed me to say this next thing. “You know, this is actually pretty wild to me. Talking to you guys about Austin. I can’t—I mean, I can’t remember the time Austin and I were together, but most of the story was filled in. And I still remember moments as a kid when… well, this would just seem impossible.”
My mom cocked her head, two hands on her heart now. My dad stayed silent, staring straight ahead, eyes focused somewhere on the trees in the distance. “My baby, I hate that you feel that way. It makes me feel so guilty. You should have been able to talk to us about anything. And know that you can. You always can.”
“I know that now, I do.” My parents might have messed up their allyship when I was a kid, but they really had tried their hardest to make up for it. They flew a rainbow flag in their front yard and added rainbow decals to their cars, things that sounded tiny but were magnified by thousands in a small town. Soon, more rainbows started to pop up around town and in yards and on cars, and the effect was felt.
But my parents had gone beyond that. They started with donating every month to queer organizations and ended up organizing an entire Pride Parade down Blue Creek’s main street. It had started four years ago as a tiny thing with a few trucks and rainbow-covered dancers and ended up with a total attendance of thirty thousand last year. An insane number and one many Blue Creek residents could never have imagined happening, but it did, and everyone loved it. Business boomed, people celebrated, love won, and pride marched. It was insanely successful and made me insanely proud of Candace and Aaron Marsh.